


The Twelve Days of Destiel

by ShipThemAll



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cas!Bond, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean Winchester in Denial, Dean!Moneypenny, Dirty Prayer, Fluff, Gryffindor Dean Winchester, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hand Jobs, Hufflepuff Castiel (Supernatural), Lapdance, M/M, Mostly not alpha/ omega!, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pie-ning, Pining, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sick Castiel (Supernatural), Smut, Stripper Castiel (Supernatural), Threesome - F/M/M, Top Castiel, joshipsdestiel, there's one in it though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipThemAll/pseuds/ShipThemAll
Summary: 12 more or less short Stories made to fit the Christmas Carol "12 Days of Christmas".There's AUs, Fluff, Smut, Canon divergence, fandom crossovers, ...I made a list of the chapters for you to sort through what you like ;).Chapter 1: 6.05 (Live Free Or Twihard) reimagined with Castiel as the Alpha Vampire (smut)Chapter 2: Short story about Dean and ... a bunny (fluff)Chapter 3: 5.04 (The End) embellished (smut)Chapter 4: Canon Divergent after Cas is thrown out of the bunker (fluff)Chapter 5: Dean 'prays' to Castiel to rile him up (smut)Chapter 6: Canon Divergent after Cas is thrown out of the bunker (smut)Chapter 7: Harry Potter AU (fluff)Chapter 8: Castiel and Dean reimagined as Paris and Helena AU (Alpha/ Omega) (smut)Chapter 9: Cas!Bond and Dean!Moneypenny AU (fluff)Chapter 10: LOTR AU (short story) (fluff)Chapter 11: 5.03 (Free To Be You And Me) reimagined. Cas DOES lose his virginity but ... (smut)Chapter 12: 5.10 (Abandon All Hope) reimagined. Threesome with Jo (smut)





	1. (On the first day of Christmas my good friend gave to me ...) A Vampire On A Killing Spree

**Author's Note:**

> Dear all,  
> I do not own any of the characters I've used (I'd be sooo rich XD).  
> This was a christmas present for a close friend of mine and I got her permission to post it here.  
> The stories vary greatly. There is fluff, there is smut, there is crack. You might not like them all but I hope you enjoy some.  
> I haven't once finished or posted a story and I am amazed that I finally managed to do so.  
> Bear in mind: English is not my native language (which will be apparent unfortunately).  
> My sister did serve as a Beta-Reader but let me know if you find errors. Thanks in advance and I hope you enjoy (some of) my work :).  
> Oh, and let me know if there are important tags missing. I'm still learning ;).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6.05 "Live Free Or Twihard" reimagined with Dean captured after being bitten and Castiel as the alpha vampire. There is an instant mutual attraction and Dean has problems accepting any of it.  
> So I guess this also means that Dean was raised from hell by Anna but that really plays no role whatsoever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is smut. Be warned :).  
> Also I am not a specialist on vampire lore (please bear with me).

He could see it now - the changes within his little brother. The way he almost glowed at witnessing Dean being turned.

Sam was not shocked or angry about it – he was intrigued. And this sealed it for Dean. The man standing a few feet away from him in the dark alley was not his brother. Not anymore.  
His heart rate was exhilarating, blood rushing through his veins leaving a burning sensation behind. A hollow feeling was expanding from his chest outwards while his body fought the bite.

He grunted and closed his eyes, head falling back. Weaker humans were known to die during the process but Dean would live. His vision blurred and went black a mere second later, his body sacking.

When he was pulled to consciousness again, he was cold. His insides were frozen, all traces of humanity taken from him, leaving only a hollowness waiting to be filled, begging to be filled. A thirst that would drive him to kill sooner than he cared to think about.  
He was tied down on a cod in what looked like a cell with bars. Out of the corner of his eye Dean could see movement and the door to his cage was opened, the bulky vampire stepping in.

“Hi gorgeous,” Boris chortled with a smirk, “time to meet the head hancho.”

He stepped up, untied Dean and heaved him to his feet. Two other vampires joined them in the dark corridor, framing them like bodyguards.

 

The hall they entered was empty except for a writing desk and a big armchair at the eastern end, illuminated by artificial light. It was more like a storage area than any type of living quarters Dean had ever seen.

Over the top of the chair the hunter could see a shock of dark brown hair – the alpha. If he could get close enough to that one, he could destroy the whole nest with a single kill. The vampires would disperse without their leader and they could be hunted down easily.  
All he had to do was kill that one alpha.

The creature sniffed the air, sending shivers down Dean’s spine. When he stood the hall seemed darker than before, void of any lingering warmth. The alpha turned towards them, only a silhouette against the strange flickering light. Dean was getting antsy, anticipating the moment he would first lay eyes on the creature he would end. 

The vampire was only of a marginally lesser height and he wore a dark suit. He moved and the moment he was fully lit by the lamp above Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

Vampires were apparently running around seducing humans for their alpha and all the while their leader was the hottest of them all. The first thing Dean noticed were his cheek bones and the way they almost cut through the light falling on them. Once he was only a few feet away the vampire stopped, building up to his full height. 

Yes, he was drop dead gorgeous and he was aware of it. His eyes were the color of the sky, no - more like the ocean and his lips were positively sinful - plump and pink. Dean was only too conscious of the fact that his gaze had flickered to them just short of being too obvious.

The creature was supposed to be attractive, lure his prey in with his looks. The thought of him having been a human once was strangely painful to Dean. He would have liked meeting him under different circumstances.

A hand went up to his jaw, turning his head left and right as if Dean were for sale. With narrowed eyes the vampire scrutinized every aspect of his face. The creature’s features softened minutely and he nodded.

“Yes, exquisite. He is perfect.”

Dean swallowed audibly and bared his teeth.

“Oh, we got ourselves a feisty one,” the alpha said with a grin and turned to the bulky vampire, “what is his name?”

“We got various IDs off of him.” The vampire handed all of Dean’s passports over and the alpha took them, checking each one carefully. An eyebrow shot up and gave him an almost sinful look. Dean hated himself for reacting to it.

“So you are a Winchester then?” Apparently he was not waiting for confirmation because he tilted his head again and went on, “but which one? Sam is supposed to be stupidly tall and since you are only of an above average size my money would be on your being Dean Winchester.”

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to let no indication slip from his face. But why bother? A devilish grin spread on the alpha’s face and he leaned in to sniff at Dean’s pulse point.  
While Dean was calm as a cucumber about being bitten, he was after all already one of them, the motion did stir something in him. Something he was ashamed of admitting.

The alpha straightened again and locked eyes with him.

“Hello Dean. My name is Castiel. And I am greatly disappointed that it wasn’t me who turned you.”

“And I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about that,” Dean sneered, meeting the creature head on.

“Is that so?” he flashed another one of his smiles, this one a little more genuine than the ones before, “I would have made it worth your while, Dean, you know, made it good. I can be very persuasive and a turning can be a pleasurable experience for the one bitten as well.”

Ok, Dean needed to think of salad NOW. Salad and fruity smoothies and exercise – no, NOT exercise – fuck, ok this was happening. He was turned on by the alpha and furious about it. He was simultaneously disappointed and relieved that he wasn’t alone with Castiel right now.

 

“Leave us,” Castiel’s voice was raspy and rich and Dean’s eyes widened at the command from him. 

What was the alpha’s motive here? Why risk being alone with Dean when he knew who he was?

But seeing as Dean was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he tried to think of a way to end the creature once they were alone. He was unbound but still weak from the turning and would not beat the vampire in hand to hand combat, so he needed to come up with a weapon, something to sever that gorgeous head from its body. What a shame it was.

The vampires seemed reluctant to leave their alpha and rightly so, one even stepping up to whisper something in Castiel’s ear but he was dismissed with a gesture as well as the others and then they were alone. Dean and the creature. Castiel lowered his chin and eyed Dean curiously, waiting for him to make his move.

“They don’t know that they’ve turned a hunter,” he said with an amused tone, “or they would have never left me.”

“So you know I’m going to kill you.”

“I know you want to try, Dean. But you see I am quite capable of defending myself. And I would like to tire you out a little.” 

He shed his black coat and suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves. Even his arms were tempting, strong and defined. Castiel caught him staring and chuckled.

“Don’t despair, Dean. I am supposed to be alluring. My whole existence is about luring prey and striking it down.”

Dean spread his arms, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Yeah? Buddy, sorry to sour your evening but I’m already turned. What do you want with me then?”

“I’d like to make you fall in love with me, Dean, wholeheartedly and painfully so. A love you are equally ashamed and proud of, a love that will last the centuries.” The grave sincerity in the sentence threw Dean of his game a little.

Castiel could have them all. He was the big boss and easily the hottest monster on planet earth. If one thing was certain it was that he wouldn’t have to hunt down a willing partner.  
It took Dean a few seconds to find his voice.

“Why?”

Maybe the whole idea was to break Dean. Make him fall and leave him on the floor because of what he had done to all those vampires before.

“You’ll see. Now shall we?”

Castiel bowed, inviting Dean to charge and charge he did. It lasted a total of two minutes and then Dean was on his back, the alpha on top, pinning his wrists down. His victory smile was predatory. With a growl he leaned in, biting Dean’s neck, without drawing any blood of course but it still felt like a flame being ignited in his insides and Dean groaned, his eyes rolling back.

Fuck, what was happening to him? Castiel moved his hips, grinding down on Dean’s lap and his body responded without his consent, pushing back, seeking the friction, begging for more, already anticipating a way to fill the emptiness inside. Before Dean could do something he would regret, Castiel pulled away, taking the hunter with him until he was upright again, his legs wobbly underneath him.

“I’ll have you moved to my wing, Dean,” the alpha whispered, licking his neck before retreating. 

He must have pushed a button or called out to his minions via remote control or something because suddenly Dean was framed by two male vampires and shuffled out of the hall and away from Castiel.

\---

It smelled of hyacinths in his new room, which was not only odd but also unsettling because there were no windows. This meant that this was artificially achieved for Dean’s benefit and he did not like it at all. 

The front door was locked but there was a large bed and a passageway next to it that had been left open. Dean had wanted to bolt it when he had first laid eyes on it but if he was right and it really led to Castiel’s room then he would make good use of it at night. At least his boner had been kind enough to disappear without the tempting alpha grinding down on it. It had been painfully embarrassing to wear the proof of his shame in front of the other vampires for as long as it lasted.

What kind of monster mojo was it that had Dean drawn to Castiel like that? His thoughts went back to his luscious lips and raspy sex voice and - yep there it was again, back with vengeance. Dean sighed, knowing that he would have to take care of that once and for all or he might just pop a boner at any given time. 

He sat down on the soft bed with his back against the headboard, closing his eyes. Under normal circumstances he was more than capable of cooling off when he needed to but he was no longer a warm-blooded human and his body was apparently set on release. Dean gave in and let his thoughts wander hoping they wouldn’t land on blue eyes and … ok, too late. He would at least be quick about it.

Opening his zipper and taking out his already fully hard cock was the easy part, that was routine but massaging it to the thoughts of soft lips wrapped around it, blue eyes staring up at him was new and uncomfortable. He imagined how Castiel would pin him down, take him hard and that was all it took. Dean bit his hand and came with a muffled moan. His chest was heaving and his shirt was soiled but that was ok - the problem was that having to jerk off violently after meeting a vampire was another category of twisted. 

Dean flinched at the thought. He had to get rid of the alpha as soon as possible.  
Tonight then. But without a watch telling the time in an artificially lit lair was close to impossible and after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Dean got out of bed and tried the door. It opened silently. Perfect.

 

It was a small passage, about 13 steps until another door opened to a different bedroom, or rather a suite. Dean was stealthy and he crept up on the big king size bed slowly and carefully. 

He was baffled when he found Castiel sleeping in it. That was just way too easy. He looked at the alpha, and he knew he should act – strangle him or choke him with a pillow just to neutralise him long enough to get a knife and cut off his head. If there were a way he could save the man and kill the creature, he would. Why he felt like that though, he couldn’t say. Dean rolled his shoulder and took one of the pillows.

“Do it then.” The hunter stopped the motion and this was enough time for Castiel’s arm to shoot out, grabbing Dean’s throat. The blue of his eyes was piercing.

“Do it, Dean, if you want to,” he challenged, “kill me. There is a knife in the weapon cabinet over there.”

Yes! This was an invitation, maybe even a plea and Dean would give him what he asked for, only he didn’t. He choked a little at the pressure around his neck but he moved no muscle, not until Castiel sat up and pulled Dean’s mouth to his, only then would his hands release the pillow and snake his fingers to the back of the alpha’s head, pushing into the kiss and Castiel let him.

The alpha growled and pulled at Dean until he gave in and moved, straddling his lap, the vampire sitting upright and kissing him into oblivion. It had been a few hours and Dean’s cock was apparently ready to go again. Castiel withdrew a little and mouthed at Dean’s jaw and down to were his pulse would have been if he were still human. He bit down again and this time Dean buried his nails in Cas’ back at the sensation.

“Oh fuck,” he panted, baring his neck further, registering how the gesture made the alpha growl again, his movements getting greedier. When Dean was sure that he was damned for all eternity, the alpha suddenly pushed him back, eliciting a little whine from Dean in the process.

“You should get some sleep, Dean,” he said but Dean was having none of that now.

With a challenging glare he pushed back, pressing Castiel against the headboard and diving down, biting down at the exact same point on the alpha’s neck.  
The reaction was instantaneous. The vampire’s eyes changed from blue to red, and his body temperature was radiating heat where there had been cool skin before.

“Dean,” he growled and with a leap he was up, switching their positions and diving down on the hunter with determination.

“You shouldn’t have …”, he rasped, his tongue trailing from his neck down to his chest and further downward but Dean tensed. 

Yes, he wanted Castiel’s mouth, wanted to shoot cum up his filthy vampire throat but … those teeth. His hand shot out , the grip around Castiel’s wrist tight. 

The brow on Castiel’s forehead shot up, eyes fixed on the former human and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and stopping all the licking, biting and groping. He seemed to be in pain but it was over after a few moments. 

When he opened his eyes again, Dean was met with the same blue color he was used to, the warmth gone from his skin.

“Go to bed, Dean,” the alpha said and got up, not turning back when he walked out, leaving Dean breath- and clueless.

\---

An alpha was known to have turned more than 5000 humans in a single year. Dean had to recite those facts over and over while pacing his room. Ok, so he was attracted to Castiel. No big deal. A pretty face and hot body was easy to come by and had never failed to get him going but this was different. 

It had been so silent in his brain when he had been with Cas, all the doubts and self-loathing silenced for the blissful few minutes he had been under the alpha, senses on high alert and everything else shut down. His body pliant and responsive like never before.

Dean hated himself. Hated his weakness and the thirst building in him. It too had been dulled when Cas had been ravishing him. Now he craved human blood again, his whole being focussing down on ‘hunting’ and ‘drinking’. 

He lashed out and his fist went through the wooden panels off a tall wardrobe. They had left him blood bags in the room but Dean wasn’t ready to drink human blood, he might never be and the longer he denied himself the weaker he got, maybe even sacrificing his chance of killing the alpha. 

He went to bed then, waiting until sleep took and dreams tormented him.

 

When he woke, Castiel sat on an armchair next to his bed, his arms resting on the broad arm rests.

“You need to feed, Dean,” he said, eyes fixed on the hunter, “you’re weak.”

Dean rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “I will not drink human blood, Cas. I’d rather have you watch me die the wretched death you condemned me to.” 

If Castiel was thrown by the nickname, he didn’t show it.

“Starving will do horrible things to you, Dean. And you will do things you would never have thought yourself capable of.”

“It’s only you in here with me, and your minions outside. I think I can make peace with doing horrible things to the lot of you,” he spat, “and if I die alongside you in the process … even better, 'cause I am a monster, just like you.”

\---

The following days Dean found new blood bags left at his disposal. These new ones labelled with animal names. There was ‘boar’ and ‘deer’ and more exotic things like ‘bison’ and ‘antelope’. But he refused them like the ones before, distrusting the labels as well as the monsters he shared the strange lair with.

A few hours later there was a knock and Castiel entered through the passageway.

“Good evening, Dean.”

“Is it evening? I wouldn’t know,” he said coolly.

“I won’t keep you in here if you cooperate.” His eyes went to the untouched blood and he frowned. “I hunted for you, Dean. It would be courteous to at least give it a try. I give you my word that the bags do contain animal blood.”

Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest in defiance.

“Don’t fool yourself. I can make you, Dean. In fact I would love to,” the vampire sneered, closing in on Dean, “please, defy me.”

He stepped right up and flashed his red eyes at Dean but the hunter would not budge.  
“Break me then, Cas. If you think you can and that really is what you want from me.”

It was a bluff but Castiel didn’t call it. He tilted his head at Dean’s words and his eyes went blue again. He nodded, understanding that Dean was starting to catch on.

“You know I don’t. I want you strong and able bodied. I tried to accept your wishes for now,” he pointed towards the bags, “I haven’t hunted animals myself in years. Please, think about it,” he offered and that was when Dean jumped him, crashing their mouths together. 

This was not about lust or even killing the alpha; this was about quenching his thirst and silencing the gnawing fear about what had happened to Sam.

“No!” Castiel stepped back and raised his hands. “Not like this, Dean.”

\---

Drinking animal blood was easier than Dean had thought it to be. And with every new bag he got his wits back a little more, the thirst ebbing away slowly. It had taken three more days for him to relent and he was glad that he couldn’t remember much of the last day. He had attacked Castiel, had been chained down and bit himself before he gave in. 

Cas hadn’t been back since then and Dean knew he should be happy about it and definitely not sad. With his mind clearer he should focus on destroying the nest again and maybe ending his own life. He was not sure if he could go on drinking animal blood forever and he was not about to risk the alternative. 

His hands were bandaged from where he had hurt himself but he had no memory of it. A young vampire was his sole visitor, bringing him new bags and bandages every now and then. When he entered his chamber now, Dean sat up.

“Who did these?” he asked, showing his wrapped arms.

“Castiel.”

“Huh. Yeah, I thought so.” The man placed the bags on the small cabinet and was almost out of the door when Dean approached him again.

“Where is Castiel?”

“Out.”

\---

If Dean had been correct at keeping count it was his twelfth day with the vampires when Castiel returned. He heard him through the open passageway. The alpha was talking to two or three others, barking commands at them and then it was silent again. Dean waited and hoped that Castiel would look in on him now that he was back but nothing happened. Fuck it!

Dean walked in on Cas in a stage of undress he had not been prepared for. The vampire closed the towel around his hips and raised his eyes to Dean. He had not expected Castiel to smile at him then.

With a sigh Dean walked up and pressed his lips to Cas’ like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood, his arms snaking around his torso. The alpha made a surprised sound but opened up to Dean’s exploring tongue. Only when the hunter pressed their bodies together did Cas become active himself. 

He all but tore Dean’s shirt in two and went for the bite at the same spot on his neck. Dean moaned but held on and managed to loosen the towel enough for it to slip down and Cas willingly stepped out of it while at the same time fumbling with Dean’s belt. 

The moment the hunter had wiggled out of the remainder of his clothing, Castiel’s hand was on his dick, rubbing the throbbing flesh greedily. Dean’s head rolled back and Cas bit down on his neck again and this time Dean’s body went limp, melting under the ministrations.

The alpha almost had to carry him to his bed and then he was placed on the soft mattress face down. Cas went to his drawer and the next thing Dean felt were cool fingers at his ass. 

Hands spreading his cheeks and a soft pad circling his rim with a fluid motion. “Fuck, yes …” Dean stuttered, pushing back against the finger, “do it, Cas. Fuck, please.” 

The moment he felt teeth piercing the skin on the back of his neck, he also jerked violently at the finger pushing beyond his rim. It was supposed to burn but with Cas teeth in his neck he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his lust, the way his dick throbbed under him. 

Castiel sat back then and added a second finger to the equation. His free hand in Dean’s hair he fisted his fingers in and pulled, yanking Dean’s head back and eliciting another moan from him. “Ah, fuck, Cas …”

And that was all the preparation he got. With a growl Cas aligned his dick with Dean’s hole and pushed, breeching him. He pulled Dean up and the hunter sank back against the vampire’s chest, waiting for him to move.

“Say it, Dean,” he growled.

“Please, ah … Cas, fuck me.”

Castiel drew back slightly and rolled his hip forward.

“Not good enough,” he huffed, “not nearly good enough, Dean.”

He let go of his head and Dean slumped forward, still on his knees and this was when Cas finally fucked him hard, drawing back and snapping his hip forward again and again. With the new angle he was hitting Dean’s prostate now on every push. 

“Oh god, Cas. Yes! Ah ... give it to me,” Dean begged, prepared to promise the world if Cas only pushed him hard enough, filled the void expanding from within. 

He knew that Cas’ eyes had turned red again, his alpha showing and with the pleas from Dean he let his strength show more and more, until Dean could only mumble, no longer able to build a coherent sentence.

“Oh … Cas … so close,” he moaned, straightening again until his back was flush against the vampire’s chest, his head falling back on Cas’ shoulder. 

So exposed it was easy for Castiel to get his hand on Dean’s cock and all it took were three or four tugs and Dean groaned, “oh, Cas, oh fuck, I love you,” and then he spilled, his body twitching and jerking while Cas fucking milked him, his thumb rubbing come over his slit until Dean groaned from the overstimulation and fell forward. 

Cas was still pounding into him, once, twice, … Dean could feel it in his whole body and then the alpha tensed and groaned and came in him. He rolled to the side and both men panted and huffed.

“Why me?” he asked after a while into the silence, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I’ve no more blood left, why bite me?”

Castiel moved and he turned to Dean, eyes back to the beautiful blue so familiar to Dean by now. “Why would I go after your blood, Dean?”

“Last time I checked you were a vampire.”

“Yes, and I drink human blood regularly.”

“Awesome. Doesn’t answer my question though. Why bite me then? Why talk about me falling in love with you?”

“You should use your brain, Dean,” he chuckled softly, “I think you could easily figure that one out yourself.”

\---

It was nice to be outside, even if it was still only the cut off yard of the alpha’s nest. The moonlight had a calming effect on Dean. He sat in the cool grass looking up at the night sky, his fingers playing with the fallen leaves. 

“Were you different when you were still human?” he asked into the silence. 

Castiel didn’t flinch but paused, thinking about it.  
“Are you different, Dean?” 

“I don’t know. I think it will change me eventually.”

The alpha nodded, looking down at his hands. “I was happier I think. Softer, weaker, more idealistic.” 

Dean turned his head to look at the vampire, picturing him as the human he described. “I think that sounds nice,” he answered. 

Castiel was beautiful in the moonlight, his features soft and bright. It was a strange thought but Dean was still acutely aware that he would have liked to have met Cas under different circumstances. Maybe befriend him or take him out for a beer and not fall under his spell after being bitten into submission.

“Don’t charm me, Dean,” Castiel said through a little smile. 

No, it was Dean that was being charmed and this just would not do. 

\---

Dean had to escape. He was no longer sure that he would be able to kill Castiel but he had to at least kill himself. This was no life for a hunter and he would never get used to it. And then came the moment he dreamed of biting a human, not any human but Sam. He bit Sam and he woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for air. It had felt real and he knew that there was no way he could trick himself into forgetting. 

Parting from Castiel was going to be painful. Yes, he would miss him, a monster but it had to be done. Dean had to flee his influence or he had to die trying.

The only real escape route was unfortunately through Castiel’s room and there was no reason to postpone his attempt any longer. He tiptoed through the passageway and found Cas’ suite empty and in disarray. Something was not right and then he heard it. Screams coming from the hallway beyond.

Without hesitation Dean went for a small dagger lying on the floor and when someone barged in, he wielded it and cut through flesh. It was the young vampire, who had tended to him before, grasping the gash in his neck and curling itself to a tight ball. The door was open.

 

“Dean!” Muffled but indistinguishable. There it was again. It was Sam’s voice coming from the hall and Dean jumped the stairs in search of his little brother.

“SAM!” he screamed, taking leaps over dead vampires. His thoughts went to Cas but his brother had come back for him and this was all that mattered now.

“Dean! Over here.” Dean bolted through the doors of the great hall and his breath stopped.

Sam and their grandfather stood in the midst of fallen vampires, wielding blades of their own. Samuel took a step towards Dean. “Where is the alpha?”

 

Castiel. He would die but it had to be Dean to do it. “I took care of him,” he lied. His grandfather frowned and it was apparent that he called bullshit on that but Dean would make it true.

“There are more in the cells,” he offered, hoping that his family would take the bait and they did, following him down the corridor to the holding cells. 

“I’ll be back,” he whispered to Sam and then he flew up the stairs to Cas’ wing, taking three or four steps at once. His blade was heavy in his hand and Dean knew that he wished he could save Castiel but he was a hunter and Cas a monster. In front of the big double door he stopped. This was it. Taking a deep breath he pushed it open and stepped inside again.

 

Cas sat on the floor, the young vampire in his arms. When he saw Dean he carefully laid the boy down and stood, facing the hunter.

“Dean,” he said, sounding tired and open, “so you’ve come back to kill me.”

“I have to, Cas.”

“Yes, because I am a monster. But what does that make you?”

“I’ll take that one step at a time.”

“Of course.” Castiel nodded and then he waited. A minute passed, maybe two. 

Dean needed to know: “Why Cas?”

“Again the same question, Dean?”

“Why go after me?”

“You want me to reveal my great plan? The elaborate scheme I had designed for you, Dean, right? Like every great villain does before his timely end?” his eyes went soft and he smiled at Dean, “there is no big plan, Dean. No scheme. I saw you and I loved you. Just like that.”

Dean snorted, “Not good enough, Cas.” He closed the distance between them and put the dagger to Cas’ throat, the alpha looking up at him with a stoic calmness,”not nearly good enough.”

“I still love you, Dean.”

The hunter in him was ready to kill but Dean didn’t move. 

“You could still come with me, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was pleading, pulling at the part of Dean that was still holding onto his unnatural feelings for the vampire, that part that wanted to go with Castiel, flee with him. 

 

A shot echoed through the room and Dean’s grip on Cas’ losened, his hands instinctively going up to shield his head from the next bullet. The vampire bolted for the passageway and was gone in the blink of a second. Dean was crouched down behind the armchair and waited.

“It’s me, Dean.”

“Sam?” the hunter took a deep breath and stood up, facing his brother, who leaned in the door frame. 

“He was still alive then,” Sam said, “ and you weren’t going to kill him, Dean.”

“Yeah? And how would you know? You shot at him, at a fucking vampire, Sam. And now he is gone!”

“I know you! And you never draw out a kill if it isn’t necessary. You hesitated.”

Yes, he had. Dean had tried to kill Cas on various occasions and he had faltered every single time. He wouldn’t have killed him. He loved him. Admitting this had a cleansing effect, grounding him in the present. There was still the issue of what should become of himself but he needed to rest first. And changed or not, Sam was his brother and he would be save enough with him.

“Let’s go, Sam. Please …”

\---

Sam and Samuel had rented a little room at a motel, just like Dean and Sam had done when it had still been the Winchester brothers against the world. Dean shook his head and headed for a worn down couch. It would not do to dwell on the past. Before he had the chance to make himself comfortable, his brother opened his mouth again.

“Dean, Samuel knows an antidote.” Sam’s words were muffled in his head, the thirst building up again but their meaning managed to get through to him after a few seconds. A cure?

“What?”

“Have you had human blood?” his brother went on and Dean shook his head.

“No, I was fed animal blood,” he answered, hope blossoming inside him. He had never imagined a cure existing.

Samuel gave him a curious look, dropping his weapons bag on one of the beds.  
“Why did they give you animal blood?” he asked, suspicious.

“Who cares?” Sam huffed, sounding relieved, “Dean, it only works if you hadn’t had human blood.”

“Don’t get too excited, Sam,” Samuel said - if only Dean could believe that - “it’ll still hurt like hell.” Of course it would.

\---

The antidote worked and Dean expected his feelings for Cas to wear off with his turning back to being a human. They didn’t, not after a few days and not after a few weeks. It occurred to him then that his feelings might have been real, not a reaction to the bite of the alpha or anything else. The truth was ugly but it was what it was - he was in love with Castiel. It still took him a few days more but in the end he called Bobby.

“What’s cookin’, Dean?”

“Bobby. I need you to adjust an antidote.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to cure vampirism.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really wanted to write this since my sister brought it up when we were watching 6.05 and since my friend seemed excited by it I just had to include it in the 12 days of Destiel.  
> And I know that the titel implies Castiel goes on a killing spree but considering all the animals he hunts down for Dean I'd say that totally counts :).


	2. Two Fluffy Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets home to find a suspicious bunny in the bunker and he's just starting to warm up to it when things get ... embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the second day of christmas I wrote this little snippet. This was in fact the idea of my friend, so of course it had to be included in her FF collection :).  
> Only fluff this time.

„… the hell?“

A bunny? A fucking bunny?  
Dean’s brows shot up on his forehead and he basically just dropped the groceries on the table, waiting for Sam to start explaining. 

His tallish moose of a brother just smiled and scratched his neck.  
“Well, …” 

Not good enough.

“How come you went and got a fucking bunny in those 20 minutes I was gone?”

“Look, Dean, I didn’t ‘get’ the bunny. It’s … a little more complicated than that.”

Dean stepped to the table were the white bunny sat and frowned, looking from the animal to his brother. 

“Dude, a bunny?” 

It did look rather out of place in the bunker and what was Sam’s idea here? To get a cage and a fucking carrot and keep the thing?

Grabbing it by the neck Dean lifted the bunny up and scrutinized it. 

Sam was next to him, raising his hands: “Dean, you really shouldn’t …”

“It’s a fucking rodent, Sam.” 

A strange smile spread on his brother’s face and he shrugged: “It is somewhat cute, right? Fluffy?” 

“Fluffy?! … damn Sam.” 

Turning to the animal still dangling from where he had his hand in its fur, Dean took a closer look.

Yeah, so its nose was doing funny little movements and the fur was soft, and maybe its eyes were of a nice color. Blue. Ok, very nice. But it was still a rodent!

“Oh come on, Dean,” Sam teased, “give it a pat.”

“No way I’m patting this thing.”

“If you don’t like it …”

“Why would I ‘like’ it? Do you like it?”

Sam grinned, trying to hide it a little behind his hand but he cleared his throat then and nodded: “As it happens I do.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Ok, you know what. Give it to me then!” Sam snatched the bunny out of Dean’s hands, obviously a little disappointed. “I’ll take the ‘rodent’ with me then. I do have some research ahead of me as it happens.”

 

“Awesome,” Dean said, sitting down. He had brought Chinese food and he had just opened his box of fried noodles, the delicious smell filling the air, when the bunny came racing back from the corridor and jumped right into his lap. 

The chopsticks fell out of his hand and to the floor.

“SAM!” he shouted, “get that stupid furball off of me!” 

Silence. At least he had been able to hold onto his dinner. If he had dropped that as well he was sure he would have outright strangled the stupid thing. 

“Sam?” Still no answer. 

Glaring down at the bunny, Dean thought he saw it snuggle up to his belly. It was somewhat cute. And getting rid of it also meant delaying his dinner. A growl from his stomach decided things for him.

“Ok, listen you … bunny. I’m hungry. How about we make a deal? If you just let me eat in peace I won’t make a stew out of you. How ‘bout that?”

He snatched the chopsticks from Sam’s dinner and dug into the fried noodles, the bunny still in his lap. 

“Mmmmmh,” he groaned around the delight, practically shoving it into his mouth. Sometime during his feast he must have dropped a hand because he suddenly found it curled in soft fur once he was finished. He looked down at the fluffy bunny and grinned.

“You do have soft ears, you know,” he said, his voice pitched a little higher, “and some strange little markings there on you back, huh?” 

Shit, was he baby-talking to a rabbit? But the bunny seemed to like it, sitting up at his hind legs to sniff a little along Dean’s stomach. 

Was that bunny looking at him?

“And nice eyes. Yeah, you definitely have amazing eyes for a bunny.”

 

When Sam walked in about an hour later, carrying a heavy book, Dean looked up and smiled, excitedly pointing at the bunny still sitting comfortably in his lap: “I think it likes me.”

The wide-eyed stare he was met with softened and his little brother chuckled. “I bet it does, Dean. But I think it is time to get rid of it.”

Ok, that was unexpected. “You wanna get rid of it?”

“It’s not what you think it is, Dean,” his brother said, holding out his hands, “I promise. It will be ok.” 

Reluctantly Dean handed the bunny over with a deep frown. “I want you to know that if you …” Sam shushed him with a pointed glare and sat the bunny down on the table. 

Out of his pocket his brother produced a little vial and held it out to the bunny. When it hopped forward, apparently readily drinking from it, Sam spoke three strange sounding words. 

“Annuler la transformation.” 

“Dude, french ...?” Dean was interrupted when with a puff the room was flooded with a turquoise fog, that took a little while to clear.

 

“The fuck …? Cas?”

Dean stared at the angel, standing in the kitchen and looking a little sheepish. Sam was trying to wipe the satisfied smile of his face but it was too late, Dean had seen it.

“Oh God, don’t tell me … what the hell?” Cas had sat in his lap and he had ‘fondled’ him? Dean blushed and felt tricked. “Very funny, Sam.” 

At the accusatory tone his brother flinched and raised his hands, trying to placate. 

“It wasn’t like that, Dean. I swear. Cas had been bewitched. I tried to tell you but then I thought it didn’t matter since I was sure I could reverse it. I couldn’t have known that Cas would run away and you two would ‘hit it off’ like that and …” 

“Shut your trap, Sam!” Dean hissed and then his eyes went to the angel, who still had not said a word, “and what do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I thought it was obvious,” Cas offered with a little shrug. 

“‘Obvious’?” Dean snared. 

“Yes, that I like you. I meant no disrespect, Dean.” 

“Like me?” 

“Of course!” 

“You like me?” 

“That shouldn’t be news, Dean.” 

“Yeah, but ‘like me’?”

“As a matter of fact.” 

Sam chuckled: “Right, then I’ll leave you two to it. Uhm … sort things out and stuff. If you need me … uh I don’t think you will but if you do ...” 

“Sam!” 

“... I’ll be in the library.” 

 

The room was strangely silent then, Dean and Cas just looking at each other until Dean decided to speak: “So … when you say you like me, Cas …” 

“Yes?” 

“Do you mean like Sam or …” 

Cas tilted his head, not understanding. “I already said that we share a more profound …” 

“Not that ‘bond’ thing again, Cas,” Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.” 

“You sat in my fucking lap!” 

“I …” The angel blushed, looking at his shoes as if they would help him find his voice again.

And Dean suddenly knew, knew the secret, the reason the angel had sought him out. He smiled, confidence back in place. “I love you too, Cas.” 

“You do?” 

Dean chuckled, “seriously, aren’t angels supposed to have a way of sensing emotions or something?” 

“I am not really impartial in regards to you, Dean,” the angel offered with a shrug. 

“Yeah, ok. I get that.” 

Cas straightened, a suspicious smile blooming on his face. He beckoned Dean to come closer and when the hunter did, he eyed him curiously. “So, does this mean you could be persuaded to stroke my ears again?” 

Dean outright laughed at that. Cas’ eyes were so blue. 

“Guess I could. You just have to make it worth my while then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, so I am not too thrilled by the french counter spell (it is somewhat ironically ridiculous) but the story was first intended as chapter 3 and was called "three french words" so I really needed those words there. But the title didn't really suit the story and I loved the fluffy ear title. So, yeah, I changed the title and the spell remained and that's that :).


	3. Three Small Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during 5.04 'The End'
> 
> Future!Cas/ Endverse!Cas knows his feelings for Future!Dean have changed since Sam has said yes. But when 'his' hunter from the past pops in, feelings boil up again.
> 
> In the meantime Past!Dean is just trying to make it through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a smut chapter. Be warned :).  
> POV of Past!Dean and Future!Cas alternate.

Dean couldn’t sleep.

Interestingly enough instead of it’s usual calming effect the chirping of the crickets outside caused quite the opposite reaction in him. Maybe this is what meeting your future self does to you. Especially when this other Dean seemed even more closed off then he himself felt, even more indifferent to the people around him, the faith of the world. 

Will losing Sam do this to him as well? Was this actually his future or only what Zachariah wanted him to see. Either way Dean was still adamant that Sam wouldn’t give in, wouldn’t say yes and even if he did his little brother could still be saved. Dean would see to it. 

 

Cas sat in his chair, feet on the table and eyes fixed on Dean, an amused smirk plastered on his face. He knew that only a few years back, he would have honestly smiled at Dean, feeling warm and confident in the human he had raised from hell. 

“What?” Dean snapped at him and Cas smirk stayed. Dean was no longer able to dampen his spirits, not with all the stuff Cas took over the span of a day. 

“What is your problem, Dean?”

“You flirting with him is my problem!”

That had Cas raise his brows: “Since when do you care whom I flirt with?”

“I don’t as long as you leave me out of it.” 

“I am not aware that you are involved in any way here. You don’t need to express your indifference. I am stoned not stupid.” 

Dean turned away and was about to leave when Cas felt like he should give it another shot.  
“You were not always like this and he makes me remember. You liked me once.”

“I wanted you. That is something different entirely,” Dean growled, hand slamming against the door frame. 

Cas nodded and got up, strolling across the room and stopping next to Dean: “If you say so, oh fearsome leader.” And before Dean could snap at him again or lay his hands on him, he ducked out of the room with a quick “good night”. 

 

Tossing and turning on his cod, Dean felt the cold creeping into his bones. At least he was no longer handcuffed, even if that would not help him sleep. A little exercise might do the trick but Dean was not gonna get up and run around the camp anytime soon. 

The most action he normally saw was between the sheets and something told him that he would not get that kind of workout tonight. But nothing was to keep him from a little hands-on fun to distract him from the dystopian world he had found himself in. He was not gonna get up and ask his future self for a copy of “Busty Asian Beauties”, so Dean was on his own and he let his mind drift a little. 

His hand was on his crotch and he was palming his soft cock through his jeans, when his thoughts suddenly went to Cas. Usually Dean stopped touching himself when his mind focused on the angel, feeling guilty about the way he felt towards Cas and how his cock twitched when he thought of his full lips and blue eyes, the strength he had shown over and over again. 

Now this future Castiel was different. His flexing movements, his ringing laughter and his strange hippy attitude was irritating Dean but he was also a little intrigued by the sexual openness he displayed. If Cas were to invite him to one of his orgies, would Dean decline? 

Regardless, Dean felt nowhere near as bad about jerking off to thoughts of this Cas since he could separate his feeling from his lust. This wasn’t his Cas but he was just as hot and he would provide all the incentive Dean needed. 

With a soft sigh Dean let his head fall back a little when suddenly the door to his cabin opened. He jumped and sat up, fingers already closing around the gun he had placed on the nightstand.

 

Cas couldn’t keep himself from smirking at Dean: “I don’t think you’re going to need your weapon, Dean. But by all means bring out the big guns.” 

“Cas? What the hell …”

Patience was no longer one of his strong points and Cas just smiled broader, shedding his shirt on his way to Dean’s cod. 

His Dean had said that he had once wanted him and it was no giant leap from there to deduce that Dean from the past would at least be somewhat interested in a little action. He only had to play it right and the way to this Dean’s cock was a little show of dominance. 

When he reached Dean, Cas buried his fingers in his shirt and pulled him up, backing him against the wall. 

“Whoa, Cas …” 

“Please shut up, Dean,” Cas said, pushing his leg between Dean’s thighs. When he felt the hunter’s already semi-hard cock, his eyes lit up. He leaned forward to bring his lips to Dean’s ear and whispered, “You have started without me …”

“Cas, stop …” 

Pinning Dean’s wrists down, Cas ignored Dean’s resistance to charge ahead and claim his lips with his own, hips rolling against the hunter in a fluid motion. A pleased moan escaped him, when Dean opened his mouth to let Cas in. 

This was all the invitation he needed and his hand left Dean’s wrist to palm the huge bulge in his jeans, his mouth already watering around Dean’s tongue. He knew what he wanted and grinned, bringing a little distance between them to get both hands down to Dean’s belt, working quickly and deftly.

 

Dean had not been able to wrap his head around what had just happened when Cas looked at him through hooded eyes and dropped to his knees in front of Dean, shoving his jeans and boxer briefs down in one fluid motion. For one second Dean thought about protesting but then Cas’ lips and tongue were on his straining cock and he forgot any reservations he might have had. It was the fucking apocalypse after all - who would give a damn who he fucks or hopefully rather who fucks him? 

His head dropped a little and he could watch Cas tracing the underside of his cock with his tongue, looking at Dean through his lashes. God, he had the most beautiful blue eyes Dean had ever seen. When Cas swallowed Dean’s length down like a champ, Dean moaned and his hands moved on their own, burying themselves in Cas’ brown locks. 

“Fuck, Cas …” 

His hips jerked forward and suddenly Cas’ hands were on Dean’s hip bones, pinning him to the wall and keeping him still, so that he could take the rest of his cock as well, swallowing around the head in his throat and humming like a fucking bee.

“God, Cas, I’m … so … so close.” 

 

Cas grinned and with an obscene plop he let go of Dean’s delicious cock, sliding upwards along Dean’s upper body, his hands taking his shirt with them as they went. Like a good boy Dean lifted his hands and Cas took his shirt off and dove down to lap at his left nipple, greatly enjoying the way Dean had to suck in air through his teeth. 

He used his right hand to trace the hunter’s lips with his fingers, being a pushy little shit and forcing his way in, pleased when Dean sucked them down greedily. The moment Cas deemed them wet enough, he withdrew his fingers and started jerking off Dean to keep him relaxed. 

When his finger circled Dean’s rim, the hunter tensed a little, his muscles contracting under the ministrations. Cas looked up and pressed a gentle kiss to Dean’s neck, whispering, “relax, Dean. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

If he had to name the sound Dean made, Cas would have called it a whimper and he loved it. He never would have dreamed of fucking Dean, not since he had realised how his Dean had changed to the point when he was no longer the man Cas had fantasized about all this time. If this was to be his last night on earth, having the man he fell for all those years ago writhing under him, made it all worth it. 

 

When the first finger breached his rim, Dean buckled a little but tried to relax around it, knowing that the burning feeling would change soon enough. Cas knew what he was doing and once he found what he was looking for he went for Dean’s prostate with unbelievable accuracy. 

“Fuck, Cas, right there,” Dean moaned, shivers running down his spine when a second finger joined in. 

He felt filled up but it was not enough. Building a punishing rhythm he rolled his hips, effectively fucking himself on Cas’ fingers. Adding a third finger had Dean’s eyes roll back and he was close to begging. 

“Cas, …” 

But Cas was already on it, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock, pushing against the rim with a breathy moan. When he had been able to put the condom on without Dean noticing was a question for another day and when he felt the hot flesh at his hole Dean could have sworn that he would not be able to take all of Cas, although he was not entirely new to anal sex. 

But then Cas breached his rim and Dean groaned, taking him until he bottomed out. Only then did Cas give him a moment to adjust before thrusting forward. Dean had been close before and now he could tell that he would not last another minute, even with his cock neglected and he felt like he had to warn Cas. 

“Fuck, you gotta … slow down there, Cas … I’m …,” he started but when he met Cas gaze he knew that he was gone too.

“Oh, Dean …” Castiel moaned, head dropping to Dean’s shoulder and the moment he sped up and bit down, Dean could feel the wave approaching and when Cas touched his cock with two fingers, Dean fell over the edge, his vision going black for a moment. It was a mere two or three thrusts until Dean could feel Cas shudder and come inside him. 

“Fuck, …” Dean huffed, a smile spreading on his face. Cas’ chuckled and placed a gentle kiss on Dean’s lips. 

“You should know that,” he paused, his hand coming up to cup Dean’s face with a tender motion, “I love you, Dean. I always did and I always will.” 

“Future me as well?”

Cas frowned and his eyes fell a little: “He is no longer the person he was … the person you are, Dean. Promise me you won’t give up like he did.”

Dean nodded, bringing their foreheads together: “Ok, Cas.” 

 

The next day: 

 

Cas felt the bullet tearing through his gut before he heard the shots. He was ok with dying. Having had that night with Dean had given him something back he thought he had lost. 

Sinking to his knees, he looked down at his bloody hands. It was a surreal moment and he grinned, remembering the way Dean had moved under him, the color of his eyes and the shape of the gorgeous freckle above his left nippel. 

Yes, his had been a life worth living. He only hoped that Dean would make it back to his own time and the angel Castiel had been then. He knew they would have a chance and with that thought on his mind dying was not so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I love Future!Cas/ Endverse!Cas like crazy and I wanted to write something to make up for the way Future!Dean is ok with sacrificing him and how we don't even get to see him dying. Not sure this is a much better alternative. My sister even wrote as much: "Well, that left me with a warm christmassy feeling. NOT!" I always tend to rewrite stories, never really satisfied with how they turned out. Not sure I am entirely happy with the result in this case but ... well, I hope you like it nonetheless :).


	4. Four Days In Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has been thrown out of the bunker by Dean and gets sick.  
> Canon-divergent because Sam knows that Dean has thrown Cas out and more or less rescues him just to get Dean into all the guilt, hurt and pining after seeing how Cas got sick because of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff only (some kissing but that's all there is).  
> Guilt, hurt, (mutual) pining.

Something was fundamentally wrong with him. His vessel - no, it was no longer his vessel it was him, his human body - felt like it was disintegrating. He was cold and hot at the same time, his limbs were heavy and his teeth were chattering on their own and he could not make them stop. Sweat was running down his back mingling with the rainwater he was drenched in. The eaves above him were no match for the vertical onslaught of the storm. 

Sickness was a real threat to humans and he knew it, had in fact always known it but the concept of ‘feeling ill’ had just never been something he could have wrapped his head around. Now he had problems keeping his eyes open and a hard time breathing. He fumbled for the cell Sam had given him when he had left the bunker, when Dean had made him leave. Dean … 

A pressure was building in his chest, an ache. Maybe it was the reason he felt like he was about to die. He entered the numbers he knew by heart and waited. One ring, two rings, three rings … 

He fell over, sliding along the wall he sat against, landing in a puddle of rainwater. It was draining to stay awake. If sleep would take him at least it would be over - the pain, the hurting, the dull ache in his chest. 

“Hello?” 

The cell was lying a few inches away. He was not sure if he had blacked out or not but there was Sam’s voice coming from the mobile. 

“Hello?” Again but more insistent now. “Cas? Cas, is that you?”

It seemed like such a small distance. If he could raise his arm, he could easily reach the cell but his limbs were so heavy. 

“Sam …” it was barely more than a whisper. Cas managed to turn his head towards the phone, exhausted already just by lifting his head. He would die. He felt like he was dying. What would Dean say? Would Dean be sad? Would he be relieved? 

“Sam …” 

“Jeez, Cas? Cas, I can barely hear you. Can you speak up, please?” Cas was willing, willing to try but his body, this human body of his would not obey him.  
“Cas!”

“Please …” When the blackness engulfed his vision Castiel eased into it. It was so much easier to give in than to fight it any longer. This would be it. The last thought he was consciously aware of was that as a human if he got to go to heaven he might get to see Dean there. Dean ...

 

It was warm. Death was not supposed to be warm. There was supposed to be a reaper, who would take him along. Cas would not stay on and haunt the human world and wait for a hunter to take him out. He was prepared, he would make his peace and he would leave. But there was warmth and the gentle rocking motion of a car. 

“Hey? Hey, are you awake?” 

It sounded an awful lot like Sam’s voice but louder and clearer than over the phone. Cas fingers stretched and there was a soft cloth running through them. Blinking he thought he saw Sam leaning back from the driver seat. He couldn’t be sure. 

“Stay with me here, Cas. You hear me? You gotta stay awake.” 

Stay awake. Cas knew he should understand. Those words would make sense if he were able to sort through the chaos inside his head. If only the pain would abide for a moment Cas would know what to do, would listen to Sam and cooperate. 

He missed Dean. Dean, who had sent him away. No, thinking of Dean made it worse - the pressure in his chest building again. Wasn’t sleep supposed to help humans heal themselves? Maybe he could do that. What had Sam said? And what if Sam was only in his head? He might just be another side effect of dying. Cas had never died as a human and he was curious, even given the thought that he could only do this once. He was not a Winchester after all. 

 

Lucifer’s wings were bigger than his, stronger, more well kept. Red like the sinking sun, like the fires of hell, like blood dripping from Dean’s wounds. Dean? No! Dean was suffering. Lucifer! Dean! Flames! Cas had to get to him. Make it stop. Dean had suffered enough. Cas was supposed to watch over him. Protect him. But he couldn’t. His wings were gone. Why were his wings gone? He needed his wings to save Dean. 

He tried to move towards his brother, towards Lucifer to prie Dean out of his clutches but he couldn’t. Cas squirmed and tried to scream. If Dean could only hear him, if he knew that Castiel would do everything to get to him, would be there whatever the cost. 

“Dean.” 

The familiar name was not rolling off his lips like usual but almost lost in the shallow breathing. He was too weak. Dean would be lost to him. 

“No,” he whispered, “please, no.” 

Failing. Failing Dean again, like he had when he tried to be god, when he had let the Leviathans in, when he had almost killed Dean. 

“I’m sorry Dean,” he sobbed, “so sorry.” 

A darkness crept up at the edges of his vision, engulfing first the fiery flames, then Lucifer and next Dean, taking away his skin and his freckles and his green eyes and his amused looks and his smile. It was out to get him as well and Cas welcomed it in. 

 

Stroking motions. A pleasing sensation on his scalp brought him back. There was a pressure on his chest again. Overwhelming, restraining. Cas fought it, tried to push it away using what strength was left to him but to no avail. He could neither use his arms nor his legs.

“No ... “ he wheezed. 

He couldn’t breath, his throat swollen and sore, his skin clammy. With a jerking motion his body seized and … he was coughing. Yes, that was what it was called. He had seen it. Humans do it when they’re sick and when they are trying to cover up an awkward moment. The pain was excruciating. He was still alive then. At a hospital maybe. Castiel could not make up his mind if that was a good thing or not. 

His mind wandered and when it picked up on the last vision of Dean being torn apart by Lucifer, Cas started to tremble. In a panic he shook his head, mumbling, ‘nos’ spilling from his mouth until … he opened his eyes, a burning feeling blurring his vision. There was a face. Oh, if only it were Dean. Cas would want it to be Dean. He even imagined his voice talking to him, whispering that it will be better soon. Better or over. Over. Yes, death. Maybe it would be better to die. It will be all over soon.

 

Dean. It was Dean’s voice. The sound was like water to a man dying of thirst. If only he wasn’t so cold. Cas shivered and his teeth were clattering again. There was still a burning sensation behind his eyes and he could not open them. He wanted to wrap himself in Dean’s voice, knowing that it would warm him from the inside. Dean was warmth, radiating like the sun, his soul a beacon of perseverance. 

Cas turned towards the soft spoken words, muttering, “so cold.” He wanted to reach out to the source of Dean’s voice with his hands as well as with his mind. But he was no longer an angel, he was a mortal human, stripped of all his powers and thrown into a world he did not belong to. And the only place he wanted to go was one he was not welcomed at. 

“Dean, …” Yes, Dean Winchester, the human Castiel had rebelled for and would still do so again without a second thought. If only Dean would feel the same way about him. He felt so alone, reaching out again. “Please, …” 

Something changed and there was a new source of warmth at his back, something curling around him, grounding him and calming him. “Dean …” If only this were real. 

 

Cas opened his eyes, the world shifting into focus. He groaned when he tried to sit up. Oh god, his head felt twice as big. The bunker. He was in the bunker, in his old room. How had he gotten here? And did Dean know? Cas had called Sam or at least he thought he might have tried to call Sam. Had the younger Winchester made it to him and taken him here? 

Cas’ heart sank a little. Dean would not like his being here. He had sent Cas away and he had not made it a week without getting sick and troubling the Winchesters again. What a sore excuse of a human he was. If he could get up and pack his things before Dean was back … yes, that would be preferable to being told to go again. 

He was dizzy and felt weak but he only had to get up and get dressed. With some effort he managed to push his legs over the bed frame. So far so good. Dean had once said that it sometimes helps to get things over with quickly, like getting rid of a band aid. He was always so eager to share his wisdom. Cas shook his head and winced at the pain shooting through him. With sheer will he got up and took two tentative steps before his vision went black. 

He really should sweep under his bed sometime soon he thought when the door opened and Dean was in the room. Dean, Dean, Dean. Blackness, Dean, blackness. 

 

\---

 

Dean hadn’t been sleeping well the last few days and he was convinced that this had nothing at all to do with throwing Cas out in the street. Nothing at all! He was just tense about the whole situation with Sam and he was tired. It was only logical that this would catch up with him one of these days. So him tossing and turning all night made perfect sense. All he needed to set him straight was some pie and maybe a little action between the sheets. Yup, that was all. 

“You okay?” Sam had walked in looking tired but they never were truly rested, were they? His brother opened the fridge, taking two beers out and tossing one over. Dean caught it midair and watched Sam sit down and open the bottle. It was still pouring outside. 

“So?” his brother asked, eyes cast down.

“So?” 

“You heard anything?” His brother could be such a pain in the ass. He was overdue for a new case and so was Dean but there was nothing to be had. 

“No cases, Sam,” he huffed, sitting back and gulping down his own beer. 

“I meant from Cas.” 

Oh, ok. Talk about his beer turning sour in his mouth. He could not explain to Sam why he had to get rid of Cas and he was so not gonna have that conversation now. 

“Sammy …” 

“Look, I get it. You had your reasons and you don’t want to share them but the guy’s new to the whole human thing. Don’t you think he might be a little lost?” 

“Cas is a fighter, Sam. He will be fine.” 

Sam was of course about to object and that was really all the motivation Dean needed to get out in the rain. He got up, cutting his brother off. 

“We’re out of almost everything. I’m going out.”

“To … like … a bar?” 

“Yes, Sam. A bar! And I might do some grocery shopping before so last chance for suggestions.” 

 

The ‘Fallen Angel’ was a bar like every other. Dancers, pool tables, beer. Dean let the soft buzz of all the noises calm him. The beer was good enough and it was cold. His trunk was stuffed with pie and now all he had to do was get laid. 

When a woman walked up to him, he was oh so ready to go. She had short dark hair, skin like chocolate and dark brown eyes. “Hey there, handsome.” Her mouth did a cute little thing where one side turns upwards more than the other, and she had a very dominant aura about her. Yeah, definitely a good evening. Dean did his best to cut the chatting to the bare minimum, already setting up his ‘do you wanna get out of here’ line, when she put her hand on his thigh, grinned and leaned forward. 

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” she whispered in his ear and Dean had to swallow. Ok, yeah, that should be what he wants. It is what he wants. Skin on skin - now! 

“You got a …?” 

“My place is 3 minutes from here and I bet I’ll have you begging on your knees in less than that.” 

 

“Dude, you didn’t even give him some cash? Or a credit card?” Sam glared at him, when Dean entered the bunker at - what time was it? - something close to 3am. His head was killing him and he didn’t care for his brother souring his good mood. 

“Sam, I’m gonna go to sleep. I need it,” he huffed, coming down the stairs and ready to push his brother away if he would step any closer. He really didn’t like being reminded of Cas all the time. Especially after having had mind blowing sex. Hadn’t it been hard enough to kick him out in the first place? He’d done it for Sam. Had to do it really.

“It’s a good thing I gave Cas one of my cells then or he would have frozen to death out there!”

Now that had Dean stop in his tracks. “You … what?” 

“Yeah, he called me. I had to track the cell to find him because he wasn’t able to speak, Dean! He was literally dying in the frickin’ street!” 

It had been hard to build the wall, hard to keep his thoughts, feelings and regrets about Cas buried for the sake of his little brother. And it had been for nothing. One sentence and the wall was crumbling, caving away into oblivion. 

“Where did you take him?” 

“He’s in his room, Dean. His temperature was up to like 105 degrees.” 

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“And you are here making speeches? What the hell, Sam?” 

Dean turned and ran down the corridor, bolting through the door to Cas’ room in a flash. His blood turned cold upon seeing the angel - well, former angel - in the bed. His skin was dull and his face flushed from the fever. Sam somehow materialized behind Dean, placing his big hand on his shoulder. Why was Sam no longer shouting at him? Dean deserved it. He would bare it. 

“He’s asleep. I had him take two advil for the fever and got him warmed up. He’ll just have to make it through …” 

Dean raised his hand to shush his brother. He did not deserve the hopeful words, the unspoken promise of him getting away with what he had done. If Cas would not … make it … it would be on his hands. 

“I’ll stay with him,” Dean said. 

“But you said you needed …” 

“Sam!” 

 

The first few hours felt like forever. Cas was not responsive. He was shivering and burning up but he never woke or said a word. Dean was keeping busy by soaking a washcloth with cold water for Cas’ forehead and changing it every hour. He sat next to him, watching for any sign and he tried to get some water into him, holding his head up with one arm and pouring the drink down his throat with the other but most of the liquid just got spilled. It was not until the third or fourth hour that he actually started talking to Cas. 

“Hey, uh … you’ll be ok, Cas, I promise. It will be alright, ok?” 

If anything the silence he was met with only engaged him further into his monologue. “I’m sorry. That’s what you want to hear, huh? I am. But I need you to be ok.” 

His voice was breaking a little but he would work through it. “I need you to be ok and walk around and be a fucking pain in the ass and say strange things all the time, you hear me?” 

 

He had finally fallen asleep in the chair around 11am when suddenly he was woken by a scream. Dean jumped and it took him a few seconds before he was aware of his surroundings, the memories rearranging themselves. The door opened and Sam burst in, apparently also just barely awake after having been deprived of sleep the last night. 

“What happened?” 

Cas was tossing in his bed, arms flailing, eyes closed. Dean tried to hold his arms down, pin them so that Cas would not accidentally hurt himself. 

“I don’t know. I think he’s dreaming or hallucinating or whatever.” 

Cas leg shut up and narrowly missed Dean’s head. 

“I could use your help, you know.” 

Sam nodded and pinned Cas legs while Dean managed to restrain his arms. “I’m gonna get some restraints. He might hurt himself.” 

“Dean …” That was Cas. His thought process was interrupted and Dean stared at Cas. He had said his name but it had sounded desperate, pleading. 

“No, please, no.” Listening to the weak voice coming from Castiel was like a blow to the head and Dean sat down, his legs wobbly, shaking Cas slightly. 

“I’m here, Cas. Come on. It’s ok. You hear me? Cas?” 

Were there tears running down the angel’s cheeks? Before he could think about it Dean took Cas’s hand and kissed it, his heartbeat almost too loud in his own ears. He wasn’t sure why but he pressed his face to Cas’ hand. 

“Cas?” 

“I’m sorry, Dean, so sorry.” 

The former angel had stopped tossing and his breath rattled in his throat. This was not right. Why would Cas be sorry? 

“I’m sorry, Cas, ok? I shouldn’t have thrown you out. I …” 

“Dean, he’s asleep. You should get some sleep as well.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here though.” 

“Ok.” Dean heard a strange tone in Sam’s voice but he wouldn’t avert his eyes from Cas. He suddenly remembered the fit he had just had. 

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Get me those restraints, will you?”

“Sure.” 

His brother returned a few minutes later and they secured Cas’ legs. Dean kissed his knuckles again before placing his hand back on the bed and securing his arms as well. 

“I need you to survive this, Cas. I need you.” 

Sam said nothing and left.

 

It was afternoon when Dean woke again. Sam knocked and brought him a sandwich and some juice. Dean rubbed his eyes, taking the plate with a nod. 

“Coffee?” he asked. 

“In the kitchen. If you want I will get you a cup …” 

“Sounds good, I’d rather stay with him for now.”

“Sure.” 

Dean got up and sat down on his bed frame, checking Cas’ temperature by placing his palm on his forehead. It was still too high but a little better. He should have retreated then but instead his hand went up until his fingers brushed a few of the sweaty curls out of Cas’ face. 

From there it was just a short way to stroke his hair, fingers working over his scalp in a soft massage. Cas’ face was beautiful. Dean had thought so when he had first laid eyes on him. But there was more to it now. Something that hadn’t been there before or had Dean just pushed the thought away until now? Burying his feelings like he buried everything he was not ready to get to the bottom of, because that was pretty much all he ever did. 

Cas jerked, his body moving, pushing violently against the restraints. “No.” His face was closed off and then he was coughing and grunting. He was in pain and from the sounds of it in great pain. And it was Dean’s fault. 

Dean tried to hold Cas down, covering his torso with his own until the moving stopped. He sat up and look at Cas. Was he blinking? 

“Cas? You with me? Cas, it will be ok. You will be alright.” 

 

Dean had gotten a few hours of sleep, having a rushed dinner and taking a much needed piss when he was back in Cas’ room, releasing Sam of his watch. 

“Hi,” he whispered, shaking Sam a little since his brother had apparently drifted off as well, “I’m back. Get some sleep, ok? It’s almost 7am.”

Sam rubbed his eyes and blinked, “yeah, thanks Dean. His temperature is constant. It’s a little better though.”

Dean looked down at the patient. “You removed his restraints?” 

“Yeah, he’s been calm enough. I’d say he’ll be ok.” 

“Sure he will. Night Sam.” 

“Goodnight.”

Dean sat down next to Cas and his first instinct was to kiss his hands again. What the hell? Why was he all about kissing the man all of a sudden? With a frown on his face he leaned back, crossing his arms and looking at Cas. He was shivering. Dean huffed and got up to get the extra blanket from his room. How Cas was freezing with a temperature like that was beyond him. Once the man was covered up some more, Dean settled in his chair again.

“You really are high maintenance, you know? All the time I spend with you here I could hunt down some monsters, fight for the innocent, save the world.” He chuckled. “Well, it’s never like that, is it? More like us against the world. Sam, me and you, Cas. Always.” Castiel moved, his body turning towards Dean, eyes still closed. 

“Cas? Cas, you hear me? You there?” It was hope that bubbled up inside Dean, hope and anticipation. He wanted to be there when Cas woke up, wanted to hold him and tell him how sorry he was. 

“So cold …” The words were barely more than a whisper but Dean understood well enough. And yet there were no more blankets. He couldn’t very well walk over and take Sam’s. 

“This will have to do, Cas. You got all the blankets. Four in total. Now don’t get greedy, ok?” he said, pulling the blanket on top up and tugging the former angel in.

“Dean, …” 

“I’m here. You listen to me, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Cas moved his arm and Dean thought it looked damn close to a plea for a hug. Ok, no way he would hug the guy. Not after kissing his hands yesterday and turning into ‘Mr. Touchy’ all of a sudden. 

“You’ll be fine, Cas. Go back to sleep.”

“Please …” 

He was going to do it. Dean knew it before he was out of the chair. His legs carried him and then he was lying down next to Cas, shuffling to close the gap between them and warming him with his body. He was positive that this did not count as spooning. Totally not spooning! No spooning happening here. With a sigh he wrapped his arm around Cas and settled down. 

“Dean.”

“Sh, sleep Cas.”

The rattling breaths evened out and Cas was obviously calming down. Engulfed by the warmth, Dean could feel his sleepiness catching up with him again. It felt good to lie next to Cas like this. Right. Like he belonged. Dean didn’t let the thought linger. He fell asleep shortly after. 

 

In the evening Dean woke up with his face buried in Cas’ hair, taking deep breaths, happy and content. Whoa! He tensed and edged backwards, covering Cas with the blankets and practically fleeing the room after having checked his temperature. 

“His fever broke,” he announced to his brother, grabbing some cold chicken from the fridge. 

Sam looked up with those big eyes of his, “Thank god. Is he awake?” 

“Nah, I just needed some …” 

A thud from Cas’ room had both brothers out of their chairs and down the hall in an instant.  
Dean bolted through the door and saw Cas on the floor, eyes open but fluttering closed a second later. 

“Fuck!” 

It took them a few seconds to lift Cas up and position him back on the bed. 

 

\---

 

Cas awoke and his head felt better, clearer. His eyes blinked open and there was Dean, sitting in a chair next to his bed, nose in a newspaper. With all his heart Cas wished that he could stay here, stay with him, if it only meant waking up to see Dean read or cook or do anything really, but he would leave if Dean asked him to. So much of his life revolved around the hunter now. Dean Winchester.

“Dean.”

The man jumped at hearing his name and his eyes widened when he saw Cas looking at him. A smile spread on his face and he got up to sit down next to him, placing a hand on Cas’ forehead. 

“Hey, how are you feelin’?” 

“Better,” Cas said, trying to sit up, “I guess I have to thank you and Sam for that.” 

“Nah, all your handiwork,” Dean said, pushing him back down, still grinning, “man, I’m glad you’re back with us.” 

Dean. Cas was so happy to see him, so happy to be back with the man he … what? ‘Felt close to’, ‘familiar with’? No, Cas knew that there was another word for it. He turned his face away, the words stuck in his throat. 

“How long was I out?” 

“This is the fourth day, Cas.” 

Four days. He had burdened the Winchester four long days. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I know you don’t want me here.” 

“Whoa, hold your horses there. I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Dean said, taking Cas hand, prompting him to meet his eyes again, “I’m sorry, Cas, I shouldn’t have thrown you out. You could have died.”

“I didn’t.” 

“Yeah, no thanks to me.” 

“That was not your …” 

“But it was! Yeah Cas, it was on me. My decision, my mess, my responsibility!” Dean was too hard on himself, always expecting the very best of himself and nothing of others. 

“I don’t see it like that,” Castiel offered but Dean just made a face at him and stood up, leaving Cas already missing the little contact they’ve had just now. 

“Awesome, yeah, just peachy. Lucky me you didn’t die then because literally everybody else would put the blame on me. And rightly so.”

There was something else there, hidden in his words and if Cas only had his angel powers he would know, he would be able to sense what hidden emotion was seeping through. 

“Why are you so angry, Dean?” 

“Shit, Cas. You almost died, ok? Now I don’t know about you but I … how could I have gone on after that? After kicking you out, getting you back, sleeping in your bed, only to lose you again. You tell me!”

Sleep in his …? 

 

\---

 

Dean stopped pacing and thought about his words just now. He had spelled it all out to Cas, hadn’t he? Without saying ‘it’ he had basically laid his emotions bare and he was prepared to suffer judgement. But Cas only stared at him and Dean had to cover up his error. 

“I didn’t throw you out because I didn’t want you here, you know?” 

“I believe you.” 

God, why was Cas so ready to forgive? 

“I want you here, Cas.” 

“I can stay.” 

His back against the headboard Cas looked up at him with an open expression, all blue eyes. How was he supposed to not fall for him? Dean stared. 

“Dean?” 

“Why haven’t you asked me?”

“Asked you what?” 

“About my sleeping in your bed.” 

“Why …?”

“You were in it, ok! That wasn’t when you were gone. That was literally two nights ago!”

“I see,” Cas lowered his eyes, staring at the blankets, “I thought I might have dreamed it. I wished it to be true but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.” 

“Why not, Cas?”

“Dean … you threw me out,” he paused and Dean was ready to jump in, set on apologizing for that for every single day for the rest of his life, but Cas stopped him, “this is not about blame, Dean. I am sure you had your reasons. But I … I cannot tell you how hard it was. Not only life itself but the separation. Since I’ve been mortal all my senses are gone. I’ve been able to pick up on you whenever I needed to, establish a connection, make sure you were ok. I felt so close to you, connected and losing this was … I imagine it being like losing a limb.” 

“Cas, I’ve missed you too.” 

“You don’t understand. This connection was unique to me. I never had anything of the sort with any other being. I miss you even now, when we are in the same room. And I know you cannot understand, cannot reciprocate …” 

“Reciprocate? You speak of emotions then?” 

“Not quite but it is a similar concept. As a human I would describe it as a physical need. I want to be close to you.”

Dean knew that he could not put himself in Cas’ shoes, he hadn’t felt the bond with Cas as the angel had done but one thing he could relate to was the physical thing. He sat down next to Cas and took his hand in his. 

“How’s that?” 

Cas’ eyes went wide and he stared at Dean. 

“Good,” he whispered. 

Dean kissed his knuckles one by one like he had done 2 days back. Lingering longer on each new knuckle, until he heard a soft sigh leave Cas’ lips. Opening his eyes, he smiled at the former angel. 

“And that?” 

“Dean … I …” 

It did not take much for Dean to lean forward and place a gentle kiss on Cas’ forehead, his cheek and his nose. 

“Better?” he asked. 

“Y-yes.” Cas’ voice was breaking a little and suddenly it all made sense to Dean. The feeling buried inside bubbling up. He leaned in and kissed Cas, not his nose or cheek but his lips. Those soft pink lips. It was chaste and innocent until Cas’ hand shot up to cup his face, deepening the kiss, moving and sucking at Dean’s lower lip. 

Now, even if Dean had tried he would not have been able to keep the soft moan in. A smile spreading on his face he opened his mouth, and carefully worked his tongue forward, prepared to stop the very moment Cas would want him too. But Cas’ lips parted and he all but asked for Dean to explore his mouth. 

Ok, now moaning was definitely happening on both sides and Dean’s hands dared wander around a little, one hand going up to cover Cas’ hand and the other travelling to his back, to guide his movements further. If Cas hadn’t gasped for air, Dean was sure he would have been content to make out the whole day - screw that! - the whole week. But he knew Cas was not yet recovered and he reluctantly broke the kiss, evening out his breaths through a grin. 

“Dean …” 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, you have to rest.” 

“Dean, I love you.” 

Dean locked eyes with Castiel. Of course. He could have seen it before, but he hadn’t. Dean nodded. He could not say it back right now. It was true for him as well. Yes, he loved his guardian angel back, with passion but it was something different entirely to say it out loud. Mercifully Cas seemed to understand, pressing another gentle kiss to Dean’s lips. 

“Dean, I …” 

“I won’t make you leave again, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Get some sleep, Cas. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that wrote itself. I have a thing for guilt ridden Dean and of course I just love mutual pining. Hope you have fun reading it, I definitely enoyed writing it. And if you're still here, thank you for sticking with me through this :).


	5. Five Prayers Sent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's plan to get back at Cas for disappearing by sending dirty prayers to the angel backfires ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'll add a SMUT warning because Dean's prayers are not r-rated ^^.

1

 

Dean is tired, more than usually and he makes himself fairly comfortable in the back of his car. Hunting can be such a tiresome business, especially when you are doing a solo run. But this time Dean’s not only tired, he’s also horny. Very much so. And he is a little angry at Castiel for standing him up again. For days the angel has been ignoring his prayers, and Sam’s for that matter and tonight Dean has thought of a little comeback. He sits back, closes his eyes and starts praying. 

“Oh, Castiel, who art in heaven I guess, I really could use your help now to give me strength. I have urges you know and filthy, filthy thoughts.” Dean almost chuckles but he tries not to let his amusement show when he continues, “and I touch myself regularly - at least when Sam’s not around, like right now.” He lets his hand travel down his chest and stomach. 

“I love the first minutes of slowly warming up, Cas. When I’m only palming myself through my jeans. Sometimes it takes a bit of time but I usually get hard very soon and I enjoy it when my cock strains against the fabric, asking to be freed. Do angels masturbate at all?” Dean gasps.

Ok, best idea ever. Dean can picture Cas’ trying to stay professional, his ears turning red listening to Dean’s prayer. He is still only lightly rubbing along the outlines of his hard-on. “I feel confined in here but there is something hot about it. Only when it gets too much I give in and open my zipper, just like now. I like to tease myself, start slow and ignore the need bubbling up for a little while.” 

It is strange to talk himself through this but it’s also exciting. Dean hisses through his teeth with the first skin on skin contact. “Can you hear me, Cas?” The hunter arches up into his own hand, a blissful smile spreading on his face. “I’m stroking myself now, Cas, and sometimes I speed up without any prelude, I lick my palm and move my hand up and down, moving my hips along as if I was buried deep in another person, thrusting into the warmth.” 

Dean can already feel his orgasm approaching like a freight train and he is a little surprised how this has in total not taken more than three or four minutes but he hasn’t had a roll in the hay for quite a while and he is tired. He speeds up further and groans. “Fuck. You still with me, Cas? I can usually feel the wave closing in, and today I’ll be the first up with it. Just so good … I’m ...”

Dean spills in his hand with a grunt, his body trembling and taking its time to come down from the high of orgasm. He didn’t tease himself long enough for it to be memorable but it was good and he knows that Castiel must have heard him. Smirking, he tugs himself back in and thinks of the angel. He will be so pissed off. Yes, very good. 

 

2

 

The motel he and Sam have rented is shabby, run down but they are short on cash and it will have to do for the time being. Burning the skeleton remains of a little boy should have been routine but the story behind it wasn’t. Dean feels down and is in dire need of a shower and some distraction. And he is still totally on board with his little revenge scheme, since Castiel has ignored them yet again. 

Dean strips quickly and steps under the rusty shower head. At least the water is hot, soothing and the way he pinches his nipples is just the right amount of painful. He grins and whispers.

“Hey, Castiel,” he starts, hoping that the angel is listening, and if he isn’t Dean will make him! “I know you can’t hear me or you would have answered by now but I had a sordid day. I wish you were here to listen to it. Well, not right now because I’m in the shower. The water is so hot, Cas, and I like the way it is almost too hot.” Dean steps further in the water jet and bows his head under it, grunting when the stream gushes over his sore muscles, bringing relief. 

“This makes me feel alive, Cas,” he breaths, adding a little moan at the end for show. “I’m also playing with my nipples, they are so sensitive, Cas, you have no idea. I do like it when someone licks or bites them, it goes straight to my cock and I get hard without being touched at all.” Dean’s not lying. There’s no need to, he feels comfortable enough about himself to talk about his little kinks and he is desperate to get back at the angel, however petty that might seem to others.

Dean turns and leans back, resting his head against the tiled wall, fingers still pinching at his oversensitive nipples. Time to get this on the road. His hand on the shower gel, he addresses Cas again. “Uhm, Cas? I feel a little dirty at the moment. Guess I’ll be soaping up and with my hand all slick I think I might just touch my throbbing cock.” 

Dean makes a fist and rolls his hips, burying his dick in it. “Fuck … uh, it’s nice, Cas, so good. I can just lean back against the tiles, the water washing over me while I stroke my aching cock in a painfully slow rhythm. I am tired but I want it to last a while, just a little.” 

It is gloriously maddening to keep his movements slow, deny himself the release for a while. He swallows the louder moans down for Sam’s sake but he knows that the water will mostly keep his brother from hearing the little huffs Dean makes. When his muscles tense for the first time, Dean lets go of his dick and tries to calm down, thinking of salads and detox smoothies. And he wants to let Cas know why. 

“You know, whenever I feel my release approaching I stop and only when the pressure ebbs away a little I start again.” And with that he palms his cock again, even slower now, showing Castiel exactly what he means. He is careful not to miss the right moment to stop again and when he does he explains, “the longer I take, the better it’s going to be. Oh, Cas, I want to come so bad already. I want to feel my orgasm washing over me, cleaning my head for good before my night’s rest.” 

Peeling his hands away from the tiles and back on his cock, Dean knows how close he’s by now. Ready to spill. After only a few slow strokes he has to let go again. It is the third time Dean denies himself and he grunts, his nerves on high alert, his knees shaking uncontrollably. 

“Fuck, I’m so close now, Cas. It’s going to be so good. I’ll make it so good. So close … I can barely touch myself now, I’m more holding on, waiting for the wave to take me.” Dean wraps his fingers around his cock and thinks of Castiel’s face. That picture and the tiny motion do it all on it’s own. “Fuck, Cas, I’m … ah … I’m … fuuuuck ...” Dean explodes. 

With a grunt he strokes himself through his orgasm, eyes wide and mouth ajar. 

 

3

 

Dean’s been hit on by a guy today. And he is somewhat confused about it. If asked Dean would say he is into girls but something about the guy has captured his imagination. Men have their charms, especially since Dean likes a little show of dominance between the sheets. Power and strength have always been huge turn-ons in his eyes. And this guy has been tall and handsome. With brown hair and blue eyes - blue … like Cas’. This evening he talks more to himself then to Castiel when he prays, sprawled all over his bed in the bunker. 

“I thought about you today, Cas. Not like usual but how you are objectively handsome, hot even.” To be honest, that is not the first time Dean has in fact thought about the angel in that way - like by far not - but it is this latest memory that is the freshest, the most intense of them all. Dean is already sporting a raging hard-on and palming it while thinking of Castiel. That feels especially wicked and he loves it. “You are powerful, Cas,” he whispers, biting his lip in bliss, “and strong. You could easily manhandle your partners around.” 

Oh god, that thought alone has blood pumping through the hunter’s veins. “I for example like it when someone takes the reins,” he grunts, “when someone puts me in my place and I can just unwind.” Fuck, when has dominance become his thing? What would a male voice do to him? The raspy tone of it? Imagining the sound goes straight to Dean’s cock and he lets a needy moan slip. 

“A guy has asked my for my number today, Cas, and I guess I was curious. I have never been with a man, you know. I kissed a few. I was drunk of course but it was not so different than kissing a girl. I think it would be nice to relinquish control and be the recipient of … you know.” Dean squirms, turned on by the thought of Cas listening to his rambles, the angel witnessing him trying something new.

“I want to experiment a little today, Cas. I brought lube for that purpose. There is a gland in … oh, you’ll see.” Yeah, Dean is sure as hell not going to explain the male anatomy to an angel, who has been studying menkind for millenia. “Anyway, I’m lubing up now, warming it between my hands. I’ve already done some work on my cock to get me in the mood as you can see.” Or can the angel even see that? Screw it.

The hunter tries to find the perfect position. He has never done this after all. “That stuff feels strange,” he huffs, lubing up, “I feel strange doing this but here we go. I’m circling my rim now. The internet said it will be better when I get it all ‘warmed up’. Ok, show time. Wish me luck then, Cas.”

Dean pushes his finger in and wiggles it around a bit, feeling the stretch burn. “Ouch … well, it’s not what I was expecting. It hurts a little. I think I’ll … oh, fuck. Fuck! Yes, that’s better.” His finger has brushed over a little knot and Dean sees stars. He hastily repeats the motion and grunts. “Oh fuck, that’s so much better. I can see the merits of someone else doing this though. The position is a little awkward. Aah, but yeah … definitely working for me.”

Dean adds a second finger, aiming for his prostate every other push. “Oh, that feels good, Cas. Really good. Maybe I could come from that alone but I don’t have the patience right now.” And Dean’s hand is getting numb as well but no reason to let the angel know about that. The angel … Castiel. Castiel watching him, listening. 

“Fuck, Cas. I wanna spill so bad.” It is a strange feeling to fuck himself with his fingers and Dean is happy to work his free hand around his cock. That is familiar, that is what he knows. “God, I want to … yeah … fuck … I’m gonna ... ” 

It takes him a little to come down afterwards, his mind positively blown by stimulating his prostate for the first time. Yes, he definitely wants someone to do this to him one of these days, finger ... and fuck him. 

 

4

 

Dean dreamed of Cas. And it was shocking waking up sporting the biggest hard-on in days, his briefs soiled by precome. Ok, maybe it wasn’t his brightest idea to include the angel in his sexy times. Now Castiel and orgasm are so interwoven that Dean might just pop a boner when the angel finally decides to show up again. 

He stopped praying then and made it through a week without touching himself. On the ninth day though he can’t do it any longer and he locks his room in the bunker. He tries to do it without talking to Cas but the angel sneaks his way into his thoughts again and again and in the end Dean gives up. 

“Hi, Cas. So I really need to blow off steam and since I think about you now whenever I do it, I thought I’d go the extra mile and try to think of you on purpose.” He sits on his bed, back against the headboard and closes his eyes, picturing the angel. “You are beautiful, Cas.”

Wow, that is new, unexpected and frightening. But Dean wants to see this through. “Your lips especially. They are plump and soft and pink. I would love to taste them, see them swollen from making out or wrapped around my dick. Oh, you’d feel amazing, Cas. I can imagine.” But Dean is also thinking of his lips on Cas’ cock. Well, fuck! 

“You are so bossy, Cas, so easily aggravated. I bet I could rile you up real good and wait for you to punish me for it.” Dean is always down for a little spanking. “Make me apologize like a good boy. I’d do it, Cas. I’d like seeing you naked, worshipping every part of your skin. Oh, I’m so hard, Cas. I’m not even doing anything, see? Not touching myself.” His cock is in fact still tugged in his jeans, straining like hell but the pain is sweet and Dean actively keeps his hands away, teeth biting down on his lower lip.

“I could try suck your dick if you wanted me to. I’ve been on the receiving end of enough blowies to be an expert - in theory at least. Fuck, if I lay a hand on me now, Cas, I’ll shoot. But I wanna tease myself a little longer. You could try and fuck my mouth, use me. And I’d like it, Cas. Fuck, I might even beg for it.” The truth kinda hurts! “I want to see you come apart, Cas. Lose yourself to the pleasure I give to you.” Dean finally touches his aching cock and groans. “God, Cas. I wanna be there when you give yourself over to someone else.” He will come in his pants, like a stupid teenager. “Fuck, I wanna be that person.” So close. “Please, Cas, talk to me. Fuck, oh, Cas … fuck ...” 

Dean waits for his orgasm to ebb away and the angel is still AWOL. With the taste of bitter disappointment, Dean sheds his soiled pants. He is afraid. Afraid that Castiel won’t ever be back. 

 

5 

 

He has fallen asleep. It is only 4pm and Dean has fallen asleep. He wakes feeling rested and content and he is sporting a boner. Thank Chuck, that bastard, that he had the insight to fall asleep in his own room and not somewhere around the bunker. How the hell is he sporting a boner at 4pm? This does not even qualify as ‘morning wood’. Either way he wants to take care of it, needs to. Better to get it out of his system and the fastest way is embarrassingly enough through Castiel. 

Dean thought about the angel constantly over the last days. Sometimes tried to ignore his boners and sometimes he didn’t, breaking his own record of under 2 minutes just two days ago; but he didn’t pray. Only now he feels like doing it again. It is all the same anyway if Castiel is not listening. Dean sheds his shirt and jeans and puts his hand in his boxer briefs, stroking his cock into full mode. 

“Hi, uhm Cas. You got your ears on, buddy? Huh?” He sighs, “ok, so I get it now that you cannot hear me or you aren’t listening anymore so I shouldn’t feel guilty about this but I still do. Anyway … you remember when I tried fingering myself?” Oh, yes. A good memory. Dean can hear his own breath hitching. There is a thought in the back of his head and it has been there ever since he discovered his prostate. Time to ‘man up’ so to speak. 

“Well, I thought it would be hot to be fucked. Have someone bend me over and fuck me hard and thoroughly, make me see stars. When I imagine that now I think of you. I want you to fuck me, Cas.” Oh, god, saying it out loud is different, makes it that much more real. “I want you to drive your cock in me and make me take it.” That picture is better than all the porn Dean has watched these last few weeks. It has him panting and writhing in seconds. 

“I can’t believe it but I want that. I would need to hold on for dear life it you used your real strength. I wouldn’t want you to hold back on me. I wanna come with you buried inside and feel you fill me up. Mark me as yours. I would have liked to be your first, Cas. Kiss you first, blow you first, maybe fuck you first. But I would be content with your coming back … Cas, I …” 

“Dean, …” 

With a surprised gasp, Dean lets go of his cock, scrambling up and away from the angel standing in front of him now. It is as if he hasn’t been gone at all. He looks the same, even the way he tilts his head is the same. 

“Fuck! Cas?” 

“Yes.” 

“Whoa, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … I thought you weren’t listening. It started as an innocent joke … I swear …” Oh, fucking …! Fuck! Dean’s face burns from embarrassment and he tries to cover himself, looking around for the blanket. He has to say something but nothing comes to mind. He just draws a big, fat, fucking blank.

There is movement and Dean looks up. Castiel has dropped his coat and he is in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt with his long fingers. Dean’s eyes widen. This cannot be happening. He’s dreaming or hallucinating. 

“I was listening, Dean. I am always listening.”

Oh, god! So he fucked that up real good. Cas is back and Dean just made it all awkward as hell. He shrugs, “Cas, I … sorry …”

“... and I am here to grant your wishes.” 

He is … what now? He must have misheard that. Dean’s mouth is dry when he speaks again. “What?” 

The angel is already working with his belt, when his head shoots up, focusing on Dean. “I will fuck you now. This is what you want, correct?” Cas asks, a little confusion seeping into his voice. 

Dean is about to shake his head. No, no this is what his head wants, thinking he will never get the chance. This is what he fantasizes about, believing that the angel has left him for good … this is his most secret desire, never to be spoken about with anyone, buried deep from prying eyes, never to be acted upon under any … 

Dean hears his own voice, breaking with the effort of concealing his lust. The words are out before he has even finished his train of thought.

“Yes, Cas. I want you to …”, he pauses, eyes glued to the angel, in awe about the whole situation. Finally he finds his voice again, “yes, I need you to ... fuck me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a compromise because I had another idea for the fifth chapter -> "Five Orange Pips" (so a Sherlock AU). But I didn't have enough time to finish that and so I wrote "Five Prayers Sent" the evening before the deadline. I've rewritten it since and it has started to grow on me. I hope you like it.  
> My sister was kind of frustrated with me using past perfect when I really shouldn't have - guess grammar still has to grow on me XD.


	6. Six Weeks A-Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 9.  
> After Dean has thrown Cas out of the bunker the angel takes on a job to keep himself afloat.  
> It is not what the Winchesters expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning! (Of course! Again! Sorry, not sorry XD)  
> Ok, so somewhere in Season 7 I think we see the Winchesters arriving at a strip club and there is a sign announcing "Exotic Angel Fire". As always my sister made a comment like "Oooooh, nice. Is it Cas dancing?" which brought this on XD.

“It ain’t Cas! It cannot be. The man can’t even dance.”  
Dean stopped in front of Sam, blocking his way to the bar. “The guy has like two left feet. Trust me on that,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder at the shady entrance. 

“You don’t say,” his brother huffed, “and how would you know? Don’t tell me you used to slow dance together when I wasn’t not around.” 

“Cut the crap, Sam.” 

“Yeah, ok. Look Dean, let’s just check it out. Maybe he’s a waiter, you know. People wait on guests in there … I assume,” Sam offered, pushing past Dean, who followed after him still mumbling excuses. 

“What was Garth doing in such a joint anyway? It’s ridiculous.” 

“Oh, relax Dean. We’re going to be in and out in a heartbeat. It’s a strip club. What’s your problem? I take it you’ve been to such an establishment before.” 

“Searching for a former angel slash human in there is my problem.” 

 

“Ok, so either he’s not a waiter or he’s off duty,” Sam said when they had been in there for half an hour, spying on the staff like a pair of creepy stalkers, “Garth said he was here last Thursday. Maybe he was just ‘enjoying the show’?” 

“Cas? In a ‘sinful den’ as this? Definitely not happening,” Dean said, shaking his head, “and Garth said he saw ‘Cas’ show’ so maybe we should check the strippers then.”

“You sure?”

“Nah, that is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. Maybe Garth was ‘garthed out’. Anyway, let’s roll.” 

Dean emptied his overpriced whiskey and was about to leave when the next performer was announced. The presenter made a big show of it, calling it ‘a special treat for all the ladies’ when there was a total of four completely drunk women in the club. 

“A sad excuse for a hen party I’d say.” 

“Dean …” 

Either way ‘Exotic angel fire’ was indeed a gift but it came in a really unexpected wrapper. The curtain on stage was lifted and revealed a man who was almost naked already, his back to the audience. His stage name made more sense when Dean saw the little wings he had tied to his back and the pyro-effects that went off for effect. 

When the music started the guy wiggled his round little boxer brief-clad ass to the song playing on the speakers to the whooping of the ladies. Ok, yeah, it was a great ass and Dean was not one to deny it. It did look very firm and the way the guy rolled his hips was impressive but they had not come here to look at some naked dude. 

Dean was about to get up but Sam pulled him back, pointing to the stage. The dancer had turned and Dean’s jaw dropped in a way where he was sure he would not be able to pick it up ever again. Yes, that sight had burned itself into his brain for all eternity.

 

Cas’ movements were impeccable, hot but not in a trashy way. He must have been informed about his female audience because he made quite a show for them, even going so far as to fucking dry-hump a chair. 

Whenever he stretched his muscles or bent in a way Dean had never thought possible the girls whooped and stuck bills in Cas’ briefs. They obviously liked what they saw. And to his own surprise Dean followed Cas’ movements with growing interest as well. But of course he was just appreciating the moves themselves. Cas had learned them in six fucking weeks after all. So it was only fair to him that Dean wanted to see more of them, the dry-humping as well. Yeah, ok maybe he was a little turned on but nothing gay was going on. A man appreciating another man’s body, which made him think of sex. Totally straight business. No dicks involved, no dicks in sight. 

No dicks in sight, YET. But this was a strip club and Cas was a stripper, which meant he had to get naked one of these days - although Dean was still stuck in denial land about that particular part. The former angel stood with his back to the ladies and looked over his shoulder, winking at them when he tore away the one item of clothing he had sported throughout his number, the tiny black boxer briefs, sending the bills flying through the air. That ass was plainly the most perfect ass in the US – period! Or maybe all angels had heavenly behinds. Dean wouldn’t know, he had only slept with one. 

He was about to make a comment to Sam about it but when he turned to his brother his unbelieving face made him look back to the stage. Cas had turned and Dean could see ‘him’ now. ‘He’ was literally ‘out there’ and yes, Dean nodded, capable of appreciating a good thing when it was ... twirled around in front of him. Wow, really? 

The act was over and Cas smiled and headed back, hand covering his ‘not at all little’ Cas when he saw Dean and more or less froze before he stumbled off the stage, looking completely horrified. 

 

“I did not just see that,” Sam said, eyes still fixed on the stage. 

“You mean Cas’ dick playing windmill? Yeah, Sammy, sorry, but you did just see that.” 

“Dean!” 

“Whoa, don’t shoot the messenger. I didn’t make him strip, ok!” 

“You just sent him packing.” 

“Awesome. Thanks for your valuable input there. So what? I threw him out, ok? I sent him packing, I didn’t sell him into a life of vice and sin or anything.” 

With a heavy sigh Sam got up. “Anyway, I’ll try to get ‘exotic angel fire’ or whatever to join us. Maybe they’ll let us in backstage.” He left to check for Cas and Dean was suddenly not so sure whether he wanted to talk to the former angel. The man had not seemed too happy about seeing the Winchesters. About seeing Dean.

 

Sam had been gone for almost ten minutes when Dean decided to check on him. He took out his wallet and counted the bills they would have to pay for that ridiculously fancy cocktail Sam had ordered and the average whiskey Dean had had. He looked up and there was Cas at the girls table, now dressed in tight black hot pants and a see-through shirt Dean would call a ‘thingy’. He was talking with a busty blond girl and ... was he flirting? Dean had not seen Cas flash his smile as much as he was doing right now. This was not ok on any level. 

He walked over and grabbed the man by the shoulder turning him around.  
“Ok, Casanova, we need to talk.” 

The angel’s eyes widened and his jaw tightened.  
“Dean, I’m working,” Cas whispered, “you can come talk to me after my shift.”

“What now?” 

There was a huge guy, almost as tall as Sam only broader, watching their exchange and he came over, looking alarmed.  
“Everything alright here, Steve?” he asked Cas. 

“Everything’s ok, Roger. Thanks.” 

Dean did not take well to being interrupted, scoffing like a champion. “Yeah, thanks Idris Elba, you can back off now. We’re just peachy over here!” 

“Steve?”

“It’s ok, Roger. Thank you.”

The man frowned but left and Dean was convinced that he had obviously done his very best to stay calm. He turned back to Castiel and raised his shoulder, giving him the eye. “’Steve’? Really, Castiel? That’s the best you could come up with? ‘STEVE’?” 

“Listen, if you want to talk you have to book me,” Castiel hissed. 

“Say that again?” 

“Book me, Dean. Privately.” 

Dean wanted to talk to him, get Cas to come back. Whatever the cost. In this case quite literally.  
“Shit, ok. How much?” 

 

The private room Cas had let him to was more like a booth with a curtain. Once it was drawn Dean couldn’t keep it in any longer. 

“The fuck, Cas? What is that?” 

“This is my job, Dean.” 

“Really? Dropping your clothes for some drunk chicks? That’s your job?” 

“What would you have me do? I have nothing, no ID, no qualifications, nothing. I was lucky I met Linda when I did. She took me in and offered me this job.” 

Dean rolled his eyes at that but when he thought about the way Cas had moved a few minutes ago his features softened. The hunter scratched his neck and shrugged.  
“The hell, Cas. How did you even learn that shit in six fucking weeks?” 

Castiel seemed proud of himself at that. “I trained really hard.” 

And like that Dean was angry again. Why exactly he couldn’t pinpoint but he just didn’t like it. “Yeah, congrats. You’re a stripper.” 

Cas straightened. “It pays the bill, Dean. Yes, I strip and I wait tables on weekends. And I do lap dances too. As it happens you paid for one.” 

“Yeah, thanks but I’ll pass.” 

Dean shook his head, looking at the floor. He was here to make amends, not make it worse and he would try to do just that.  
“Listen, Cas. I want you to come back home.” 

“Home?” 

“Yes, ‘home’. The bunker, me and Sam, you know. Rings any bells?” Fuck, Dean knew that he should control his temper more. 

Cas said nothing, just glared at him and Dean felt the guilt burning in his gut. “Please, Cas. We need you. You don’t belong here, you belong with us, we’re your family.” 

“You threw me out …” 

“... and now I want you to come back! Jesus, Cas.”

The look the former angel gave him was challenging. “You paid for a lap dance, Dean. I take my job very seriously.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” 

“I’ll finish my shift and then I’ll quit.”

Dean straightened and stared at Cas. “So, you’re saying if I don’t let you sit in my lap you won’t come back?”

“I dance, Dean, I don’t sit.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s do this then.”

 

Cas led Dean towards the red leather sofa and had him sit down. The hunter was annoyed and huffed but he would see this through if it got them Cas back. Said former angel clapped his hands and smirked when a soft music came from two old speakers overhead.  
“Jesus, Cas, really? That’s all kinds of tacky.”

But Cas was not fazed and continued towards the hunter. Dean made a great show of being unimpressed, head dropping back to look at the ceiling but that proved to be a bad idea since suddenly Cas was sitting down on Dean’s lap, back to the hunter. He rolled his hips a little and then went full Miley Cyrus on Dean, bending forward to wiggle his ass around like a … a … a fucking stripper. 

“Whoa Cas! Ok, ok, we’re done.” 

“Relax, Dean. You paid for 3 more minutes.” Cas said over his shoulder. He turned around and sat down again to straddle the hunter’s lap, arms on his shoulders to get some leverage before he started rolling his hips again, locking eyes with Dean. Every protest Dean had prepared was out the window. Cas’ eyes were so beautiful, big and blue and it felt good to be weight down like that. 

It was easy to give in and move with Cas a little, only a tiny innocent bit. Dean knew that he had left straight-land now, rubbing his semi-hard cock against another man’s ass but it felt good, right. He closed his eyes, hands moving to hold on to Cas’ hips, breathing heavily. 

Wow, that was nice, really nice. Oh, and he was painfully hard now. Cas’ fingers were drawing soothing circles on his back and neck and Dean moved his hips against Cas again. Fuck, the angel was hard too. And then his lips were on Dean’s ear, his lips and his tongue and it was too much. Dean moaned and blushed, embarrassment tainting his cheeks, which only seemed to spur the angel on. He bit down on Dean’s earlobe, panting and Dean’s world changed around him. 

Ok, time to stop this. Last chance. But instead Cas sped up his movements and when he whispered Dean’s name in the hunter’s ear Dean came with a silent scream - in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

It took him a few seconds to calm down, his heart still hammering away in his chest when the realization hit him. Dean’s eyes flew open and he looked down at his soiled pants and back up at the man in his lap.  
“Jesus, Cas, sorry, I …” 

Cas met his gaze. The former angel looked like sin itself, all hooded eyes and spit-wet lips and smiles.  
“Time’s up, let’s go home, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I love the thought of Sam's face when he finds his brother and Cas after the lap dance. That's going to be an awkward little walk of shame for Dean ^^. Now I just feel mean.


	7. Seven Brooms A-Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter AU  
> Gryffindor!Dean/Hufflepuff!Cas; Slytherin!Lucifer is a bully; Gryffindor!Benny and Ravenclaw!Sam are there as well :)  
> Misunderstandings, love potions, angst, hurt
> 
> This is a fluff only chapter :)! And it is really very teeny-dramaesque (is that even a word?) ... but I think that suits the HP setting \\(^v^)/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that this update took so long but I had to rewrite my whole story.  
> It was originally about one and a half pages long - like the tiniest little snippet of a story and upon rereading it I sorta kinda hated it ... so I rewrote it.  
> The next updates will be on time (did I give myself any update goals?). Well, either way - the other chapters are more or less to my liking and only need slight adjustments XD.  
> BTW: Fluff only because I have problems writing underage smut (not reading it, WRITING it -> there are some high quality teenage smut stories out there ;))  
> As always: Let me know what you think (e.g. if you find spelling errors or if you liked or disliked something).  
> Thank you :).

Lucifer Helkirk might just be the worst person to have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At least that is how Dean sees it and he will swear to it until his dying day, which might be closer than he cares to admit, if you can die from embarrassment. 

 

Life itself at Hogwarts is all kinds of awesome. More than that even. Especially since Sam joined him two years ago. They are not in the same house but Dean can look in on his brother whenever he wants to really. He even knows the Ravenclaw password although he swore to never tell another soul. 

 

If only he could avoid Lucifer. The boy seems to hate everyone but especially Dean and his younger brother Sam. Usually Dean makes friends easily and he met his best friend on his very first day at Hogwarts. Upon being sorted into Gryffindor by the loud-mouthed sorting hat, he sat down next to a scrawny boy with blue eyes and a contagious laugh, who shook his hand with a wink: “I know I’m cute and cuddly, no need to stare, brother.” Benny Lafitte and he have been friends ever since. When Dean learned that Benny has no family of his own, he brought him back home for Christmas and literally every other holiday there was. You could not find a more loyal friend than Benny Lafitte. 

 

Lucifer Helkirk though is something else entirely. He is their senior by two years and head boy of Slytherin. Benny tends to rant about how a bully made it to head boy but it is what it is and Dean happens to be very good at ‘missing’ the tall Slytherin in the hallways and on the grounds, sometimes almost melting into a wall to avoid bumping into Lucifer. Usually Dean does not shy from a fight but the cruel head boy seldom moves without his minions and Dean is also smart enough to know when he cannot win, and that is why he and Benny try to ‘camouflage’ their way out of trouble when it comes to Lucifer. 

 

Right about 2 minutes prior might have been a good moment to do just that but Dean missed his opportunity and now has to put up with being mocked in front of half the school, struggling to free himself out of a headlock. 

“... disgusting, Winchester,” Lucifer snears, pressing the smaller boy against a wall, “I guess you and your pitiful ‘friends’ just revolt me.” 

Dean tries to show his teeth through a grin, “Relax, you ain’t exactly my type either.” It is a passable comeback and the best he can come up with right about now but of course Lucifer uses it against him. 

“Yeah? Well, I know who is,” he hisses and Dean can feel his ears turning red. It is one thing to be bullied in front of a cheering crowd of Slytherins but something different entirely to have your secret spilled. But how would Lucifer even know? 

“Yeah, I bet,” he says with all the sarcasm he can muster while still trying to free himself.

Leaning in, the older boy grins and whispers: “A Hufflepuff, really?” 

Dean gulps and tries to hide his shock but he fails epically because Lucifer’s smile widens: “I must say, you sure are persistent. How unfortunate that he is oh so oblivious about your petty little existence, Winchester. You don’t even ...”

“Helkirk!” The voice carries over the yard and suddenly Dean is released and sags down. Benny rushes to his side and helps him stand. Of course his best friend would call the headmaster in to sort things out. First year Benny tried to bite through Lucifer’s arm but the boy was older and taller and Benny was no match for him. He has learned his lesson since. 

Dean feels like crying though when Benny helps him up the stairs and into the common room. 

“That is a low life, Dean,” he starts, ready to comfort his best friend as best as he can but Dean fears that he would not be consoled this time. 

“He knows, Benny,” he whispers. 

“He’s bluffin’, brother.” 

But Dean knows better and that same night he tries to come up with a plan at how to break it to … him before Lucifer does. 

 

\-----------

 

Breakfast in the great hall is always a treat, especially when there is pie. Pie always makes him forget about Lucifer and he digs in, waving at Sam sitting a few feet away at the Ravenclaw table. His little brother grins and waves back, stuffing himself with the delights in front of him. Dean almost deceives himself into believing that this will just turn out to be a great day when he hears Lucifer shouting to his friends, boasting like he always does. This time he once again claims that he has brewed the perfect love potion.   
Next to Dean Benny snorts: “He couldn’t even make fuckin’ tomato soup if he tried.” Dean laughs and manages to concentrate on the food and his friends for the rest of the meal. Maybe he rushes through it a little but there is a valid reason for it. Quidditch. 

 

Dean loves Quidditch. He has never started playing himself or rather he has never endeavored to get anywhere with it. But watching it is still one of his favourite things to do.   
This is something he enjoyed with his parents when he was a young boy and he even got Sammy to watch a few games with him after their mother had been gone. 

 

Ideally Dean would cheer for his own team. He is all prepared to do so. The scarlet and golden scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and he has even managed to make a little charm with a roaring lion for his flag and Benny wears a matching lion’s mask.

 

And yet it almost feels like cheating today. For today he will not cheer for Gryffindor, he will do so for Castiel Novak, the keeper for Hufflepuff. And he will do so quite unnoticed by his fellow students - well, of course besides Benny and Jo, who know all about his eternal crush. He groans when he realizes that he might have to put Lucifer on this list as well. 

It is embarrassing to think about it but Dean has never really talked to Castiel, well not in so many words or rather Castiel hasn’t talked back to him as of now. In fact Dean only really noticed the dark haired boy in his fourth year at Hogwarts along with his interest in boys in general. 

 

Dean was out with Benny after hours to try out a spell the other boy had been working on. They were racing back and Benny had a head start running up those annoying moving stairs. When Dean arrived only a few minutes later they had of course changed their position, blocking Dean’s way to his dorm room. 

 

Awesome! Now he couldn’t very well ask anyone for help or he might just lose his house valuable points. It was close to an hour later when he started panicking a little. He ran along a corridor looking for a particular door when he bumped into someone, the impact knocking him of his feet. 

 

“Ouch,” he winced finally looking up, hoping he had not been caught by a teacher but it was a boy. More like the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. Dark curls sticking out in every direction, blue eyes like the sky - no like the ocean - and wearing the cutest confused little frown. He held out his hand to Dean and helped him get up. Dean knew that he had seen the boy before but apparently he had not been looking closely enough. 

 

“Thanks,” he said, brushing imaginary dirt of his coat, “you don’t happen to know the way to the Gryffindor common room?” Dean managed to meet him with a lopsided grin but the boy said nothing, tilting his head a little. When his eyes fell on Dean’s scarf and his house colors he finally nodded and continued down the corridor, gesturing for Dean to follow him. Once Dean knew where he was and how to find his way he turned to thank the boy and introduce himself but he was gone. 

 

“Maybe it was a ghost,” Benny said the next day, walking with Dean to class, “I heard that some don’t talk.” 

“It didn’t seem like a ghost and I have seen him before … I think.” 

“And he wasn’t wearing any colors?” 

“No, it was some sort of muggle coat I think.” 

Benny giggled and flashed him a smile. “Well, I’d say let’s find out about that mysterious boy of yours.” 

Shaking his head Dean only declined: “It’s of no importance.” But he found out his name a few days later and he’s been in love ever since. It feels like the longest year of his life so far.

 

His eyes follow every motion Cas’ broom makes. Up and down, right, left.   
“You’re not even looking, Dean!” Jo nudges him with her elbow. “The Quaffle is over there!” she squeals and points across the field to where a Hufflepuff chaser makes her way towards their hoops but the game itself is of no interest to Dean. Not when there is the hottest keeper in the world on display. 

 

They lose. And Dean tries hard to hide his grin from his mates. He isn’t exactly cheering but he is incredibly happy for Cas. His eyes go down to where the seven players hug and celebrate, envy bubbling up at the way they are all so familiar with Cas, so close to him. Dean sighs when he suddenly sees Cas wincing and swaying, stopping and trying to get a better look. Cas is saying something to his friend Balthazar and then he leaves the others with his friend at his side, heading towards the castle. 

 

Dean races after him, leaving Jo and Benny behind and when he almost makes it to the yard, he trips over and falls down hard. He winces and looks at his bloody hand when a shadow is cast on the floor in front of him. 

“Are we in a hurry, Winchester? Your ‘damsel’ in distress, huh?” 

Anger bubbles up and Dean raises his eyes to Lucifer.   
“You suck, you know that?” 

“My, my. That poor boy sure seemed to be in pain, now didn’t he? Maybe something he had to eat or drink ... ,” he shoots Dean a dark look, “I’d suggest you check on him as soon as possible, Winchester.” 

 

\-----------

 

It takes Dean some time to convince the nurse to let him in. His father has shown him some simple spells to heal and tend to wounds and he just has to check in on Castiel. One tiny little look to make sure he is ok, maybe put one of his magical band-aids on, he keeps with him at all time - Sam is a little clumsy sometimes. 

“Unfortunately these won’t help much, honey. You can try of course but I haven’t really found the problem with that one yet,” the nurse says and Dean can feel his stomach sinking. “Don’t worry, he’ll be up and running in no time,” the nurse adds with a wink. 

 

Dean can feel his stomach twisting into tiny knots. Something is off here. Why has Lucifer literally send him to Cas, making strange hints at God knows what. Maybe Lucifer’s in love with Castiel too? Dean can truly imagine all the pining around Castiel. The boy is just perfect. Cute, calm, fast, strong … oh god. And now he has to face him - just awesome. It is a wobbly walk down the infirmary.  
Dean has of course lied about being good friends with the Hufflepuff boy and when he’s walking up to the bed Castiel is tugged in, he gets nervous. 

 

Cas is awake and when his eyes fall on Dean they go wide. He scrambles to sit up and when Dean stops at the foot of his bed he takes a deep breath, going through his little introduction speech in his head. 

“Hi, I …”

“Dean?” the boy asks, cutting him off. 

Now it is Dean’s turn to stare. “You know my name?”   
The head tilt and eye squint he is met with has Dean chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Why wouldn’t I know your name?” 

“We haven’t … you have never talked to me.” 

That is a blush. Ok, yeah, it definitely is. Dean knows a blush when he sees one. He himself wears those whenever Castiel is around. How is that boy getting even more adorable by the minute?   
The blue-eyed boy fidgets around with his hands, looking down at the blanket. 

“I … I’ve seen your around. And … you didn’t snitch on me,” Cas says as if that makes any sense. 

“Huh?” 

“Back when I was out after hours and we ran into each other.”

“And why would I rat you out when we were both out?” 

“To get less points deducted?”

Dean’s shoulders broadens a little and his smile fades. “And this is what you thought of me then?” 

“I didn’t … don’t know you really, do I?” Cas offers, the blush back with full force, “but I would like to.”

“You want to get to know me?” Dean’s world is upside down. Their places have switched completely. Dean has come here to chat up Castiel, to try and get to know him. To tell him how he felt about him … ok maybe not that - yet. And now Castiel is being all cute and insecure about him? He smiles again and a hand shoots up to scratch at the back of his head.   
“Yeah, I’d like that, Cas.” 

 

Castiel’s smile is gorgeous and he looks at Dean as if he’d hung the sky, the sun and the moon. Dean sits down next to him then and he starts talking, about Sam, about Benny, about his family and everything that comes to mind. He literally can’t stop the stream flowing from his mouth and from the look on Castiel’s face that seems to be alright. At some point Cas covers Dean’s hand with his to offer support and with that little gesture the world is perfect and Dean is happy, ridiculously so. In the end he stays for three hours before the nurse tells him that her patient might need a little sleep. 

 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Dean stammers but when he gets up a warm hand shoots up and takes his robe to hold him back. 

“Will you be back, Dean?”

“Would you like me to? Haven’t I scared you off?” It is intended as a joke but when the words leave his mouth he himself can hear the uncertainty within and he tenses. Dean wants to come back and sit with Castiel and listen to all he has to say of course. He needs him to want this too. 

“Very much so,” is Cas’ answer and the accompanying smile stays with Dean through the evening. 

 

Jo and Benny are all excitement when Dean tells them that he finally, FINALLY managed to talk to Castiel Novak and that the boy seems to like him back. Benny acts as if that is just the way of things. People are supposed to like Dean in his opinion. Dean is thankful and he is happy. 

 

Castiel leaves the infirmary two days later. They found a strange rash covering his bones and he was healed fairly quickly. Dean doesn’t like the sound of it but who is he to complain when he lies on the soft grass under a big birch tree next to Cas and listens to the boy talk about his muggle family. It has taken some time - well two days to be precise - but once Castiel has opened up to someone, he is quite the chatty cathy and Dean loves it. 

“I like you,” he hears himself say, talking over whatever Castiel has just said. It is silent afterwards - too silent. Dean swallows around the frog in his throat, intend on staring at the clouds until Castiel leaves. Instead he feels Castiel shift and then a hand is placed on his, fingers entangling with each other. 

“Guess that makes us two,” Cas says and Dean chuckles. 

“Yeah, you’re a big fan of yourself, Cas?” The Hufflepuff boy laughs with Dean now. Life is good. 

 

\-----------

 

The next day brings a strong breeze and Dean freezes when he wakes up. Benny is already dressed and ready to go down. 

“You coming, Romeo?”

“You really ain’t that funny, Benjamin,” Dean retorts, his brows raised at his best friend. 

“‘Am though … but apparently my blue eyes ain’t half as beautiful as …”

“Oh god, cut it, Benny!” 

“Castiel and Dean sitting in a tree …” 

With a groan Dean takes his clothes and runs from the room, Benny on his heels. He knows that he is behaving like a silly little teenager, but after all - he IS a teenager, so … screw it. Who can blame him that he can’t wait to see Cas again … 

 

Sitting at a different table sucks and Dean tries to sneak little glances over at where Castiel is sitting with Balthazar and a girl with dark hair. They sit together like that every day and for the first time Dean wonders who the girl is. Trust Jo to know her way around the other students.   
“That’s Meg,” she whispers at him from across the table, “she and Cas have known each other almost their whole life … at least the way she tells it.” The thought gets to Dean - how much time he’s missed of Castiel’s life so far. It is a redundant thought and he tries to shake it off with a shrug and a nod. He focuses on his breakfast and lets the voices of his friends soothe him. 

 

“Dean.”   
Castiel calls after Dean just outside of the great hall. Now Dean might have fallen for Cas’ looks more than a year ago but his voice is pulling him in deeper every day, sending shivers down his spine constantly. He turns and beams at blue eyes and scruffy dark curls. There is nothing to disturb this perfect picture, nothing but ...  
“Aaaaawwww, young love!” 

Castiel rolls his eyes at the Slytherin head boy but when he talks, he seems in total control.   
“Jealous much, Lucifer?” he asks and Dean’s jaw drops at the way Cas seems to be comfortable with Dean’s ‘archenemy’. 

“Nah, cuz, I’m fine,” Lucifer says, placing his arm on Castiel’s shoulder, “if anything I’d prefer the brother.” 

“You stay the hell away from Sammy!” Dean is screaming and people are stopping around them to gawk. Lucifer just giggles and leans in to whisper in Cas’ ear, intend on being loud enough for Dean to hear. 

“Oh, he is a feisty one. Not at all what I would have thought to be your type, Castiel. Oh, by the way … are you quite recovered?”

Castiel frowns but nods, “I am.” 

“Took the medicine I got you?” 

“I did.”

Lucifer casts a look to Dean at that, winking at him but before Dean can swing a fist at his ugly mug the boy has moved on down the corridor.

“What the hell, Cas?!”  
Dean is ready to explode but Castiel just shrugs. 

“He is my cousin, sort of.”

“He is an ass is what he is!”

“He is ok mostly.” 

With a swift movement Dean reveals a scar on his wrist: “Yeah? That one’s on him. I got more. Benny lost two teeth because of him last year. Still hot on defending him?”   
He glares at Castiel, daring him to speak up for that scum again but when he’s just met with an unbelieving stare, he turns and bolts. Fuck that! 

 

It takes him a total of 20 minutes to calm down and realize that he might have overreacted a little. Castiel couldn’t have know about his cousin’s escapades and he is not responsible for him either just because he is related to the scumbag. He finds Cas under the crooked birch tree, his usual place to read. He is not reading now though but looks like a kicked puppy. Ruefully Dean walks up to the boy, who upon seeing him stands up, eyes locked with Dean’s. 

“Cas, I …”

“Dean, I didn’t know about it.” The boy steps up and takes Dean’s hand, “I swear. I’m so sorry he hurt you … I …”

Dean lowers his eyes to where their hand are joined.   
“Ain’t your fault, Cas. I overreacted. ‘M sorry,” he mumbles, losing his thought at the way Cas’ thumbs draw circles on his skin. 

His breathing has somehow sped up and his eyes widen when he sees Cas’ hand coming up to cup his face. He leans into the touch, desperate for more and he turns his head to place a kiss into Cas’ palm. That is it. Taking a deep breath Dean closes his eyes and waits. 

His first kiss is everything Dean has ever hoped for. Cas’ lips are soft and his fingers at the back of Dean’s neck ground him in the present. It takes him a few seconds to get with the program but then he tilts his head and opens his mouth to let Cas in. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the tidal wave that are his emotions, tearing at him and dragging him out in the sea where there is but one thing keeping him afloat - Castiel Novak. 

 

\-----------

 

Benny grins at Dean from his bed in the room. 

“So you’re girlfriends now?”

“Shut it, Lafitte,” Dean chuckles, letting himself fall back on his sheets. He is way too happy to hold back in front of his best friend. “God, I love my life.” 

“Wow, you got it bad, brother. Gonna make me your maid of honour?”

“Haven’t you got somewhere to be right now?”

“Yep, but instead I am right here listening to you swooning.”

“Don’t think I can stop … like ever.” 

Benny sits down on his bed at that, a suspicious grin on his face. “Yeah? No way to dampen your spirits?” 

Leaning up on his elbows Dean shakes his head, meeting his friend’s dare head-on: “Absolutely no way.” 

“How about … if you marry Cas, Lucifer Helkirk is part of your family?” 

“Ugh! Don’t remind me!” 

 

The next day Dean meets Cas after class under what is now ‘their’ tree. He is so ready for a little make-out session that he doesn’t realize how the other boy fidgets. When Dean leans in, Castiel stops him with a hand on his chest. 

“Dean …”

When Dean looks up, irritated, he waits for Cas to talk. He doesn’t. Something is off and Dean can feel his anxiety bubbling up. 

“Cas? What’s up?” 

“Dean, I …” 

He is breaking up with me, is all Dean can think about and he can’t take it.   
“Say it!” he almost screams at Cas.

“What? Dean … I want you to meet my friends.” 

“Huh?” 

“I … I want them to see you for who you are.” 

Relieve floods Dean’s body. 

“Sure, I’ll meet your friends! I’d love to,” he says with a smile, stepping up ready to get his kiss now, thank you very much for the unnecessary fright! But when he reaches up Cas merely takes his hand and kisses his palm. 

“Good, listen, I gotta go, Dean! We’ll talk later, ok?” 

“But …,” Dean wants to intervene but Cas is already sprinting back to the castle, waving back at him with a small smile, leaving Dean to stand under the birch tree on his own.

 

“Oh my, problems in paradise?” 

Of course Lucifer would show up now and bathe in Dean’s misery. But all Dean can think of is Cas’ changed demeanor. He has absolutely no nerves to deal with Helkirk. 

“What is it to you?” he snaps and starts to walk back to the castle himself. 

“What was that, Winchester? Cas no longer that into you? Want me to brew another batch then?” he shouts after Dean. 

 

Another batch? … Dean stops in his tracks and turns around but Lucifer is gone.   
But that is all it takes for Dean to finally put all the puzzle pieces together. His legs cave under him and he finds himself kneeling on the lawn, retching up the remnants of his breakfast. Oh, god, no! 

It comes all back to him right there and then. The day of the Quidditch match. What had Lucifer talked about at breakfast? The perfect love potion?   
And why had he send Dean up to check on Castiel? Castiel, who had gotten sick and it had taken them so long to find a ‘strange rash’.   
Dean groans and feels tears running down his cheeks as he clutches his own trembling body. 

 

It all makes perfect sense now. How Cas had fallen for Dean out of the blue. And suddenly Dean is not able to be happy about that anymore. Quite the opposite. Dean is devastated. He has seen the effects of the potion wear off himself just now with Cas under the birch and it breaks his heart to know that Castiel is not even to blame for crushing it. He is just as much a victim as Dean is.   
“No, no, no,” he sobs into the breeze. 

 

\-----------

 

Jo finds him at the same spot some time later and when she is unable to carry him back, she runs off and returns with Benny. Between the two of them they manage to drag Dean up to the common room and tug him into a big woolly blanket. They beg him, scream at him, shake him but Dean stays silent because he knows that saying it out loud will break him. 

 

After what feels like hours his friends tug Dean in and they stay at his side, hoping he’ll confide in them but they are in for a disappointment.   
He doesn’t get up or speak the next day and after class Benny manages to smuggle Sam into the Gryffindor dorms. Of course Dean breaks down then, shedding tear after tear when his little brother holds him close. 

“Cas has asked about you, Dean,” Sammy says after a few minutes. Dean feels like sobbing again but instead he wipes his nose on his sleeve and shakes his head. 

“He doesn’t really care though, Sammy.” 

His brother seems honestly confused and exchanges a questioning look with Benny, who still stands in the doorway. Dean sits up then and he tells them everything. 

 

The nurse checks on him the next day and Dean knows that he has to get out of bed at one point and face the truth. And he has to tell Cas. Tell him that he only thinks that he is in love with Dean, that it will wear off soon enough if he stays away from Lucifer’s ‘medicine’. He expects Cas to be sad as well but soon enough he will only be mad at his cousin and he will be able to go on with his life as if nothing really happened. Only Dean will have to glue his heart back together. Oh, god!

 

Dean leaves through the Fat Lady’s portrait and there in front of the wall sits Castiel, head against the wall, fast asleep. He flees. It is a dickish move but at the moment Dean can’t face up to it. He doesn’t want to hurt Cas, even if it would be a wound healing over soon enough. At first Cas will argue against it, will tell Dean how he loves him and how no potion could make him feel the way he feels. Dean takes three steps at once, bringing as much distance between him and Castiel as possible - for the moment. 

 

\-----------

 

“DEAN!” 

Castiel finally catches Dean in the school yard a few hours later and suddenly Dean wishes he could have made himself talk to him in the dimly lit corridor earlier.   
He is frozen to the spot when Castiel walks up to him with a frown. 

“Dean, I’ve been worried sick about you …,” he starts, distress visible behind his blue eyes. Now Dean just feels like an ass. Whether his feelings are genuine or not, right now Castiel is still in love with Dean - remotely at least - and he is hurting. For that Dean is to blame as well as Lucifer. He focuses on his shoes, not able to face Castiel. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“No, not good enough,” Cas says and he enters Dean’s comfort zone. Of course it is too much and Dean withdraws with a surprised gasp. 

“Will you not look at me?” Cas asks. Dean shakes his head but it is no good ‘cause how can he ever deny Cas. “Please, Dean.”

Their eyes meet and Dean tears up. They are of course surrounded by curious students and out of the corner of his eye he sees him. Lucifer leans against a column with a gleeful sneer on his lips. That is all it takes for Dean to snap. 

“That is all your doing!” he screams, pointing at the Slytherin boy. There are a few audible gasps when he walks up to Lucifer and takes a swing at him. His fist connects with the taller boy’s jaw and pain explodes in his knuckles. 

 

It takes Benny and Kevin and Charlie to drag Dean away from Lucifer. He curses and kicks and gets 20 points deducted for Gryffindor when Professor Singer walks into the courtyard. Finally he relents and mumbles a half hearted apology when the professor leads Lucifer away to take him to the infirmary. 

“What the hell, Dean? What is going on? Will you talk to me?” There is anger, confusion and desperation in Cas’ voice. He kneels down next to Dean. 

“What is Lucifer’s doing?” he asks, placing his warm hand on Dean’s knee. It is just not fair that Dean has to do this. He jumps up and Cas looks up at him through those beautiful blue eyes of his. 

 

Dean knows he should control himself but it just bursts out of him: “You don’t really care for me, Cas. You never have. Don’t you see that?”

The look he is met with makes Dean step back. This is what he must have looked like when he found out about the love potion. Castiel is hurt, Dean has hurt him but it needs to be done. He will be ok with that later, he will even be thankful Dean pushed him away just now.   
“Dean …,” he chokes, voice breaking. 

“No, Cas! Please,” Dean’s hand trembles when he raises it to block to boy from approaching, “This is not what you want. I am not what you want.” 

“What are you even talking about, Dean?”

“You are not in love with me, ok? Trust me on this!”

“That is just not true, Dean.” 

“STOP!” he screams and Castiel takes a step back. Dean feels the floor giving way under him, and he fights back the tears welling up in his eyes. He dares not look up and shakes his head before he continues, voice cold, “Just stop it, Cas. Don’t … why can’t you just leave me alone, ok? Please …” 

He wants to tell him about the love potion, he should but when he is calm enough to look up again he only sees Cas disappear through the staring crowd. Thankfully Benny and Sam are at his side when he breaks down himself. 

 

\-----------

 

Life at Hogwarts has been awesome, like the best time Dean has ever had. Right up until he had to ‘break’ Castiel’s heart. Well, he’s done it for him but he still feels like crap. Sam comes by and Benny and Jo but Dean doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He just lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling and cries. 

 

But of course it gets worse. A few days later Jo tells him at breakfast, that a friend told her friend that a friend has told … well, long story short - Cas is gone. He went back home - on ‘sick leave’. Dean is relieved. The potion will wear off and when Cas returns later they will have a short talk and everything will be back to the way it was before that stupid Quidditch match - only a thousand times worse for Dean.

 

Castiel does not return though. Not after a few days and not after a few weeks. At first Dean is thankful for the distance - he is after all trying to work through a broken heart - but when days turn to weeks he starts to worry. He has expected Cas to return and maybe seek him out for a polite chat, knowing Cas he would want to apologize although it really wasn’t his fault. There is just no reason for him to stay away. Dean asks Benny about it and he asks Sammy about it and he asks Kevin and Charlie and Jo but no one knows anything. 

 

It is a Thursday when Dean finally finds the courage to approach the girl with the dark hair - Meg. He waits for her after dinner and stops her on her way to her dorm room. The moment he steps in front of her she glares at him. 

“Out of my way, Winchester, before I knock you out!” 

Dean can’t help it - he likes her and raises his hands.  
“I come in peace,” he says. 

“You better step away in peace!”

“Please, Meg, I just …” 

“Time’s up, scumbag.” She pushes past him and moves on but he just follows her.

“Listen, I just want to know why Cas hasn’t come back by now since …” 

He almost walks into her when she stops abruptly. 

“You dare say his name to me?” Meg turns and shoves him back, “I warned him about you! ‘He’s not worth it’ I said but all he said was ‘when you get to know him…’ yadda yadda. You know what, Winchester? I know the likes of you. I knew you would break his heart!” 

Dean can’t believe his ears. That makes no sense. 

“What about my heart?” he says, still struggling to wrap his head around the girl’s hostility. 

“Who gives a DAMN about your heart? You don’t even have one!” she screams at him and dashes away. 

 

\-----------

 

He sits under the birch tree and listens to the wind rustling through he leaves, trying to make it through another day without any news from Cas. When someone approaches Dean jumps up, hoping, wishing it to be Castiel. Instead it is Balthazar frowning at him. 

“You sure are eager,” he says. 

Dean can’t hide his disappointment and he sinks back against the trunk, rubbing his eyes. He is not going to cry - no way. 

“And you are a brave man,” Balthazar continues, “to walk up to Meg after the stunt you pulled.” 

Dean huffs at that. “The stunt I pulled, yeah, right,” he echoes, rolling his eyes when the boy sits down next to him. 

“What I don’t understand is … now, why would you ask after Castiel?” 

He is way past denial and shrugs his shoulder: “Well, I for my part was … I am utterly and embarrassingly in love with him.” 

Of all the reactions, Dean does not expect Balthazar to laugh in his face.   
“Good one, Winchester. But how about the truth, huh?”

“Not that it is any of your business, asshole, but that is the ugly truth,” he hisses. 

“But … why …?”

“You know, I don’t know why Castiel hasn’t told his so called friends about that himself but it was a love potion, ok? Lucifer gave him a love potion to … well, I guess it was supposed to just be a cruel joke for my benefit. Castiel was never really in love with me!” 

He stands now, ready to walk away from this, from the emptiness inside but Balthazar holds him back. 

“Dean, that makes no sense. When is Lucifer supposed to have slipped that potion to him?” 

“The day of the Quidditch match … the one in September.”

“Dean,” Balthazar’s voice is pleading now, “Castiel’s been in love with you for close to two years now. He hasn’t shut up about it, driving us all mad to be completely honest, especially after your little run-in at night about a year ago. There is just no way that he’s been under the influence of any potion for that amount of time.”

 

“Can you run that by me again?” Dean’s world stops turning and he grabs Balthazar by the shoulders.

“Don’t tell me … is that why you ignored him? Why you broke it off?” 

A nod is all Dean manages, the gears turning in his head. There is just no way that Dean read the signs wrong, now is there? All the hurt and pain he went through can’t have been for nothing. And what about Castiel?

“Honey, you literally broke his heart for nothing … you didn’t even talk to him about it ...”

FUCK! 

Dean starts running back to the castle, Balthazar on his heels. 

“Winchester?” he hears from behind. 

“... need to talk to him … need to tell him … need him to come back,” Dean’s voice is gone and his strength wants to take a leave of absence as well apparently because he wavers and Balthazar catches up with him. 

“Fuck, Winchester, he’s transferred, you know? To another school actually. One for muggles as far as I know.”

“No …” Dean will deny it for the rest of his life but then and there he faints, well blacks out. He hasn’t had a proper meal in days after all. Totally normal to cave under those circumstances. 

 

\-----------

 

He wakes up in the infirmary with Sam sitting next to him and Benny standing at the foot of his bed, a lopsided grin on his face. 

“You really are a maiden, brother. Swooning, sighing and fainting … you go the distance.”

It only takes him a few seconds before he jumps up, “gotta talk to Cas ... important …” he gasps but his brother pushes him back into the bedding. 

“Please, Sammy, please … I need to see Cas!” 

His brother smiles at him then and his eyes go to the curtain left of Dean’s cod. 

“Why, you gonna bring me another one of your ‘magical band-aids’, Dean?”

Something clicks in Dean and it feels like pieces being glued together, like the sun coming out after a storm.   
“Cas?” 

“Yes, uh, hello Dean. I … got here … Balthazar used some floo powder and so …” He looks down at his hands, nervous.

Benny clears his throat: “Sam, come on, let’s … uh … scram.” 

But before they make it five steps down the infirmary, Dean is already out of bed and wrapped around the beaming boy at the foot of his bed. 

“Ugh, can you not wait until we’re out of hearing distance?” Sammy calls back over his shoulder.

 

Tears stream down Dean’s face but he doesn’t care if Benny calls him a maiden for the rest of his life if it got him one more hour, even just one more minute with Cas. 

“I’m sorry, Cas, so sorry!” 

“Hey, shhh, it’s ok!” 

“I love you, Cas!”

“Good, I love you too, Dean,” he says with a gentle smile and adoring eyes. 

“I thought … Lucifer … made so many misleading hints and said … he … the potion … the medicine ...” Dean is not making sense but it does not matter because Castiel holds him close and showers him with soft little kisses. 

“It’s ok, Dean. It’s over. It is Lucifer’s last year, Dean. He’ll be gone soon.”

“I thought … under the birch tree … when you didn’t kiss me … effect wearing off … cried.” 

There are hands at the sides of his face and then Cas is kissing him, thoroughly - a kiss to be remembered, a kiss for the ages, a kiss to tell your grandchildren about. When Cas brings their foreheads together, Dean even feels a little dizzy.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I was nervous about you meeting my friends. Meg’s never been … well, she kinda …”

“... hates my guts?” he giggles (oh, god), “yeah, I know that now. I kinda think she is pretty awesome whether she likes me or not.” 

“I don’t care, Dean. I want my friends and family to like you but even if not a single soul on earth did I would still want you.” 

The way Cas’ eyes glow when he talks of his feelings is breathtakingly beautiful and yet Dean can’t help chuckling at that: “Well, most people like me well enough, thank you very much!” 

 

\-----------

 

It is his last year at Hogwarts. Life is good even though he has to leave Sammy to fend for his own but the younger Winchester is smarter and quite possibly stronger than Dean - he will manage. 

Dean ruffles Sammy’s hair with a grin and looks out over the yard where Benny and Castiel are literally being obliterated by Meg and Balthazar at Wizard’s chess. Benny’s gesturing wildly and Castiel tries to make sense of it from what Dean can tell. Winking at his little brother and leaving him to his studies, Dean walks up to his friends with a smile and bows down to place a kiss into the unruly shock of his boyfriend’s hair. 

“Hello Dean,” Cas smiles at him, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. 

Yeah, life is awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally literally only: Dean watches Cas play Quidditch, Cas hurts his arm, Dean visits him in the infirmary, they are both in love, the end. XD  
> I hope you liked this extended version better.  
> I can't thank you enough for taking your time to read my dribbles!


	8. Eight Nights A-Ruttin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The abduction of Helena by Paris of Troy reimagined with Omega!Dean and Alpha!Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first shot at A/O dynamics and it is the entry for the tag "crack treated seriously" XD.  
> I left out any sort of direct dialogue on purpose to give it a more homeric feel - like an old story being told by a man with a lyre or something similar.  
> Thinking of it now ... that makes it all the more comical XD. If you find a especially stupid passage - just imagine it being told to you by an old man in a fireplace setting: "And this, dear listener, is how Dean got taken by his alpha for the first time".

Dean was born a prince and had been brought up to be a ruler of men. He was strong-willed, broadly built and stubborn and only a few people knew of his softer sides. But when Dean had presented as an omega, his father, the king of Sparta, had decided that he would not be eligible for the throne himself, although being the oldest, but destined to find a suitable alpha to marry and rule the kingdom in his stead. A leader of men, hungry for power and relentless in its pursuit. Just the sort of man Dean despised. 

But his father had sent out invitations to the other kingdoms and soon enough an entourage of suitors had been shipped in. Back then Dean had still hoped to have a say in the process but this had soon been shattered when he had not been allowed to meet his suitors. In fact his father had reverted back to an ancient tradition were he had Dean scent-mark a piece of clothing for the potential candidates to test. It had been entirely humiliating and Dean had been furious about it. 

All of the suitors had stayed and expressed their desire to have Dean wed to them. If his father had been a braver man, he would have made his decision then but he had been afraid of war and retaliation. In the end Bennysseus of Ithaca, one of the less wealthy kings among the party had proposed a treaty, wherein all suitors had to agree to accept and defend whichever candidate would be chosen. All had signed. 

And Dean had wed Michaelaos. Michaelaos, a man with money and power. An man who had not come himself but had sent his brother Raffaemnon in his stead. And so Dean hadn’t caught a glimpse of his future husband when he had said his goodbyes to his little brother to be shipped to Mycenae for the wedding ceremony. 

Part of him had still hoped that he would like Michaelaos, would fall for his scent when they would finally meet. All that had remained of that after the wedding night had been bitterness and shame. That night had shown Dean what to expect of the man that had been chosen for him. 

Michaelaos was grim, demanding, narcissistic and ignorant. He would mount Dean whenever he felt like it, all the entitled alpha he imagined himself to be. The day they had moved back to Sparta and he had been pronounced king, replacing Dean’s father, was one Dean would never forget. 

He had been raised a true Spartan, trained in combat and easily capable of bettering a man like Michaelaos of Mycenae and he had done so various times when he had felt particularly ill-used. Until the day of Michaelaos’ ascent to the throne of Sparta, when he had been told that he would not see his brother ever again if he would not submit to all of his husband's follies like the worthless omega he was. And Dean had done so ever since, keeping his defiance of the man he had grown to hate to the bare minimum. 

When Michaelaos had to leave for Crete to bury his uncle, Dean was relieved to have a little break and to roam the palace. His husband did not like it when Dean walked the corridors or stood on the walls, overlooking the land because of the effect the omega apparently had on alphas. 

Dean had been honest in telling him that he had never felt drawn to the scent of an alpha before, earning himself a beating for disgracing his husband. Sometimes Michaelaos even kept him locked up, especially during diplomatic visits from former suitors of Dean’s. Only this time he was gone when a diplomate was in town. 

Castiel was a prince of Troy, son of king Priam, whom they said had more children than he could count. The young prince had a remarkable reputation. Dean had often heard his father and his advisors speak of him and they had been overjoyed when Castiel had not been among Dean’s suitors. They deemed him too soft, his most distinctive features his outstanding beauty and his intelligence. He did good, was trained not only as a fighter but also as a healer and he cared for his people, all in all not the traits his father had been looking for in a successor. 

Back then Dean had been strangely disappointed that Castiel had not come to Sparta to win him. So naturally he was now even more curious to see this ‘beautiful’ Castiel of Troy, who had now been living under the same roof as Dean for three days, only on the opposite side of the castle. Helpful as always his brother had been to his chamber various times the last days, praising Castiel for his temperament, his witty stories and his sharp mind, almost a tad too enthusiastic for an alpha talking about another alpha. 

Today was supposed to be Castiel’s last evening among the Spartan court and Dean decided to join them for dinner and amusements afterwards. There would be dancers, a fire-eater and a trained bear. It had been ages since Dean had last been looking forward to an evening like he was to this one if only to enjoy a little company and laughter. 

He made his way to the great hall, anticipation rushing through him. But as he happened to pass by a doorway something odd occurred. Dean stopped - just like that. And he sniffed, the air heavy with a faint smell, something fresh and light, like the grass on the hills around the castle after a summer rain. There were traces of wood and bergamote. Without thinking too much about it Dean followed the trail until he lost it close to the guest quarters. And standing in that part of the castle he remembered the feast and the company he craved. Whatever scent he had been chasing, he could search for it again tomorrow or the day after. 

The great hall was able to house up to a hundred and sixty people and entering it Dean saw that it was indeed filled to its brim. From what he heard the party was making merry around the fires. The air smelled of what remained of the food - smoked duck, roasted boar, cheese, fresh figs, wine and soups made of vegetables and barley. His favorite though was dough baked until golden and filled with either fruits or meat and vegetables. They always made extra portions for him. Dean smiled in anticipation and headed towards the main fireplace where the royal family and their guests were placed. 

He could already see his brother towering over the others, his shoulders rolling from his laughter. A few feet from the company Dean halted, the smell was back but it was purer now, heavy and intense and Dean froze. Of course … it was an alpha. He should have realized it before, understood what it meant but he hadn’t and now he had to face the company already smelling his own slick. 

There was movement going on and one man stood abruptly, scanning the room as if searching for something, eyes finally landing on Dean. He was tall, dark-haired with blue eyes, a slender but defined build and a dyed toga draped over his arm. It was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever laid eyes on. Sam turned and smiled at his brother, gesturing at him to come join them but Dean stood frozen in place and time. 

The company laughed, all except the man still staring at Dean, at the joke Sam must have made just now. Like the impatient man he was Sam got up and took two or three steps towards Dean until his face did a funny thing, where his nose wrinkled and his eyes widened. His arousal must be apparent to each and every alpha in the group. 

Dean knew he should go, flee the room, get cleaned and … do what? His thoughts were interrupted by Sam shoving him away, calling towards the sitting men something about etiquette, until Dean was back in the corridor. Only then did he look at his brother, confusion written all over his face but Sam only nodded, understanding and called a servant to bring Dean back to his chambers, but not without some 'good advice' how he should ‘take care’ of his ‘situation’.

His chambers were small, cramped, cold, insufferable - in short Dean missed the smell of the alpha in here. The alpha he didn’t even know the name of. Dean had never in his life used one of the many devices built to help an omega through what they called ‘the heat’. He himself had never experienced it and his pleasurable sexual memories were scarce and limited to masturbation using only a single finger. 

Never before had he felt slick dripping out of his ass without him manually stimulating himself and even then the degree of wetness would not have been able to compare with his state now. He wanted the alpha - badly, more than anything else. He should have asked Sam the name of the alpha, ask him if he was a permanent resident Dean had not met yet or if he was here with the Trojan delegation. 

His clothing had been foreign and he had been sitting at the table reserved for the royals and their most important guests. Castiel was said to be beautiful and if Dean were to use this word ever again, he would only do it when talking of this alpha. Yes, all signs pointed to him having the hots for the Trojan prince. 

With a desperate grunt he threw himself on his bed and was about to literally scream into his pillow when there was a knock on his door. Sam wouldn’t knock. His brother would just barge in, not caring what Dean was or was not doing. So it must be the alpha, Castiel of Troy. He must have followed Dean’s scent to his chamber. Of course propriety dictated for Dean to ignore his visitor. Let him sleep in front of his door for all he cared, have him struck down for pursuing the omega ‘slut’ of ‘Michaelaos the Great’.

In a single bound Dean was at the door, tearing it open to be met by the blue-eyed stranger. Dean expected him to jump at the slick-wet omega readily opening his gates to him but the alpha tried to control himself, apparently taken by surprise at being let in, taking shaky breaths at Dean’s doorstep. 

But his own instincts would not be ignored and Dean pulled the surprised alpha in, closing the door behind him and pressing his aching body against him, nose greedily scenting his neck. His own garment was fixed by only two fibulas and with a single fluid movement Dean shed his clothing, his skin glowing in the light of the fire burning in his hearth. 

There were no words said between them, their bodies doing all the talking. Dean moaned when Castiel’s hands traveled to his hip and his ass, caressing and squeezing as they went. He lunged for the alpha, open mouthed and ready for whatever he would give Dean. 

Castiel’s tongue was plump and soft and agile and perfect and Dean knew he was already addicted. The only thing he needed was Castiel naked, alpha cock ready to fuck Dean into oblivion. He checked for something like his fibulas but apparently Trojan clothing was only draped and held in place by the laws of nature. All the better. 

He had Castiel undressed in record time, trailing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, over his chest and to his nipples, relishing the grunts and swallowed moans he elicited from the alpha. Dean had never done it but now he needed to taste Cas’ cock, feel it filling his mouth, anticipating the moment the sexy prince beast would ram it into his ass. He dropped to his knees and was face to dick with the hottest, most gorgeous piece of cock he could have dreamed up - only it was real, real and hard and throbbing and begging to be kissed. And Dean complied, looking up at Castiel while he kissed the tip, mouthed along the underside and licked the precome from the slit of his humongeous cock. 

The moment he greedily swallowed the length down, Cas bucked and drove his cock even further down Dean’s throat, moaning lewdly. Dean wanted more, taste Cas, make him say Dean’s name and he did something he had once overheard his servants talking off, trying to swallow around Cas cock buried deep in his throat. The alpha’s hips jerked and then he was coming down Dean’s throat, eyes screwed shut, his face open and devine from the ecstasy. Feeling a little smug, Dean wiped his mouth ready to comment how he was still ready to go when two strong arms lifted him, a tongue breaching his mouth, tasting the last traces of Castiel’s own orgasm there. 

With a strength that had Dean weak in his knees the alpha carried him over to the bed and pushed him down. Dean looked up at Castiel’s naked body and when his eyes went down to his cock they widened at how he was already rock hard for him again. The alpha’s smile was pleased as he took in the sight before him. He got down on the bed and pushed Dean’s lower body up, settling his hands on Dean’s thighs so that his ass was up in the air. Now the omega got very conscious about the fact that there was still a constant stream of slick running from his needy hole. Castiel scented him then, his nose trailing from Dean’s ankles to his knees and up his thighs. Why this had such an effect on him, Dean could not say but he moaned at the gesture, his head dropping and his eyes rolling back for a blissful moment. And then Cas bit down on his ass cheek, chuckling at the little yelp Dean made. His expression sombered quickly enough and finally he buried his face between Dean’s cheeks, tasting him there. The alpha groaned and rolled his hips against the sheet, seeking friction of his own. 

If someone had told Dean all those years back how good sex could be it would have been a dire wait, knowing what it could be like and experiencing nothing of the sort with his sorry excuse for an alpha husband. Castiel was gentler than Michaelaos, caring and giving when Dean’s husband was all about his own pleasure. The way the Trojan was licking at Dean’s hole, tongue circling his rim again and again until Dean literally begged him to fuck him was just the right side of aggravating. He was so close, already right on the edge but every time he thought he would come from Cas licking his ass the alpha stopped for a short time, pulling Dean back. 

Dean asked nicely, he begged but only when he ordered Castiel to give him more did the alpha obey, driving his tongue deep inside his ass again and again. With a silent scream Dean came for the first time in months, hips jerking violently. He had expected Castiel to fuck him, use him like alphas did, some part of him had even wanted him to. Once he asked the man about it, Castiel offered to fuck him if he wanted him to. Right now, right here. He offered to fuck Dean for as long as he would have him. And Dean agreed, moaning blatantly when Castiel buried his dick deep inside him, drawing back and almost out only to thrust back in a second later. This was it. Dean would lose his mind from being fucked like that. But it wasn’t enough. Castiel was an alpha and Dean wanted to ride his knot, wanted to milk it. And so he dared push back, turn a confused Castiel around until he was lying on his back. Dean smiled and sat back down on the slick wet cock with a breathy groan. Riding him like this Dean felt emboldened and when he begged Castiel for his knot, he got it. The moment it popped they both experienced pleasure unlike anything they had imagined. Dean rolled his hips, coaxing shot after shot of cum from his alpha - for Castiel was his alpha now.

It took the omega quite by surprise but it felt natural to lean in and bite down on Castiel’s neck. The alpha squirmed and writhed under him, apparently unsettled by the mark Dean already wore on his own neck, the mark Michaelaos had placed there. Now the man was nothing to him, he would leave him and follow Castiel wherever he would go. He said as much and when he did the Trojan prince smiled and with a grin he bit down over Michaelaos’ mark, making his own claim. They would elope the same night and go back to Troy. Dean only had to take care of Sam. 

He left during the night and tiptoed through the castle until he was in front of his brother’s room. Dean was afraid of his Sam’s reaction, of disappointing him, for his little brother had been his only ally in the fight against their father and later against Michaelaos, his former husband. When Dean knocked, the door opened as if someone had been waiting behind it. Sam was awake and he did not at all seem surprised by Dean’s news. No, he was even already packed and ready to accompany his brother, the bond between them stronger than ever.

Castiel had come by ship and his crew had prepared to leave in the morning for the difficult journey back home, which would take them eight days at least. Taking Dean with them was messing with their plan but they managed and left for Troy at the dawn of the new day. To Dean it was also the promise of a new life, filled with love and respect. A life where he was allowed to be himself and make his own decisions, the first having been to go with Castiel. 

The cabin was small but comfortable, decorated with expensive rugs and ornaments. Dean had fallen asleep on Castiel’s bed when the door burst open. It was dark outside and the wind was blowing. He sat up and when his eyes fell on his alpha he knew, could smell it in the air. Induced by their mating Castiel’s rut was intense, relentless and dangerous but Dean helped him through it. For him these were the best nights of his life so far, body entangled with the man he wanted, he loved. Castiel of Troy. Somewhere at the back of his head Dean knew that Michaelaos would seek revenge, enraged by the slight against his person, his kingdom, his power and most of all his prowess as an alpha and lover but for now Dean had what he had always wanted. And Greece could burn for all he cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a few precious moments I really thought about calling Dean "Delena" and Castiel "Caris" to add to the ridiculousness of the whole chapter but I decided against it XD.


	9. Nine Pies A-Buying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas!Bond/Dean!Moneypenny 
> 
> Mutual pining (and Bobby can't take it anymore!), pies, misunderstandings and a happy end!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff only. 
> 
> Warning: Americans in a british setting because ... it's James (Cas) Fuckin' Bond ^^.
> 
> The POV alternates between Cas, Dean and Bobby. I hope it is possible to follow the story (please let me know in the comments if not).  
> Thank you :).

Tuesday was Castiel’s favorite day of the week and it has been this way for the last six years. Ever since he started working for ‘B’ this was the day for his reports, if – and this was in fact a strong if – Castiel were to be in London at that time. Anywhere else he would have to report via secure connection. And as it happened he had been in Pakistan the last three weeks, finishing what 003 hadn’t been able to. 

Dean loved Tuesdays. If it were up to him, every week would only consist of Tuesdays. He would even put up with working everyday if only Tuesdays weren’t a week apart.   
Agreed Tuesday having been changed to ‘pieday’ over the last three or four months was an additional incentive but nothing more than that. 

„Good morning, 007,” Dean said, looking up from his laptop and flashing his brightest smile, “how was Peschawar?” He got up, prepared to take Cas’ coat although the agent never let him. Humble and hot – Dean had a whole list of Cas’ virtues and the ‘H’s were pretty dominant. Dominant was also on his list. 

“Good morning, Mr. Moneypenny,” Castiel said, trying his best to sound nonchalant and polite, which also meant he would not have Dean serve to him like he did to the others. He was so much more than a secretary to him. Seeing those green eyes sparkle and the dimples around his smile would never seize to have Cas swoon like a maiden. It was ridiculous really. With a slight cough he straightened and rummaged through the bag he’d been carrying. 

Dean’s smile widened when he saw the dish in Cas’ hands and he was certain that he was blushing like a little boy when he took it from him. “There was really no need, 007,” he said.  
“It’s nothing, the shop is on my way after all.” Dean hoped that there was more to it than that and he shamelessly batted his lashes at Cas.   
“Still …”   
“It’s pumpkin ...”   
“Awesome!”   
“… and you can call me ‘Cas’, you know.”   
Sitting down on his desk, Dean shook his head: “When you start calling me ‘Dean’, 007, I will.” He had missed pie like crazy since moving to England with his boss. Cas knew and he went to great lengths to get him some. Could he get more perfect?

Bobby honest to God hated Tuesdays because even if it meant getting a nice slice of pie it also were those days when he was being exposed to the most ridiculous ‘will-they-won’t-they’ dance of his secretary and his best agent. And it’s been this way since what felt like forever and his door wasn’t nearly soundproof enough for him to keep silent. 

“Will you get the hell in here, 007?” came the shout from ‘B’s office and with a shrug Cas left Dean to do what he was in fact here to do – report.   
“Good morning B,” he said upon entering.   
“Fuck that and sit down, will ya!”   
Cas complied and waited for his boss to continue. He was not in fact angry with him and Cas knew it – B was just an old grump but he was fond of him anyway. Years of combat will do this to a man and B was like a father to his agents. 

“And?” Bobby raised his brows and looked at the man sitting in front of him. Cas had never been one to beat around the bushes in regards to his job and report he did.   
“Leland is dead, the data destroyed.”   
Bobby nodded. So Cas had been successful again.   
“Good, good. What about Neil?”   
“Eliminated.”   
“I see. Well, about your next assignment …”

Dean smiled around the fork in his mouth. Efficiency was of course one of his many ‘E’s on the list and he loved to listen in on Cas’ reports. The pie was in fact heavenly and being handpicked by the hottest secret agent in England it just damn well had to be. Its being cold was enough of an affront to Cas’ incomparable hotness. Of course every woman in the whole building was crushing on Bond, even Charlie from IT was no exception and she was not even into guys. Too bad. 

“I’ll see you next Tuesday then,” B said, extending his hand for Castiel to shake. He nodded and checked the flight ticket in his pocket again. Dubai – if all went according to plan it would be a three day job at most. Well, at least he would get new equipment from ‘S’ for this assignment and he would be back on time next Tuesday. “Of course,” he replied. 

“So Dubai?” Dean asked, winking at Cas.   
The agent shrugged and tilted his head: “Do I want to know how you …”   
“You don’t,” Dean offered, hoping that his charms would make up for the little laps in behavior. When Cas smiled and took his leave with an awkward wave and a soft, ‘see you next week then’, Dean cupped his face, a smile plastered to it. 

“If you sigh, Moneypenny, you’re out of a job,” Bobby said from the doorway. Dean jerked and straightened as if he had been caught in an utterly embarrassing moment. And maybe he had been. Shaking his head, Bobby stepped to the desk of his secretary and put a hand on his shoulder. “Why not ask him out then?” 

It was all he could do – chuckle and nod. “That obvious, huh?” Awesome, even his boss knew of his crush. Stupid Tuesdays. “I can’t really. You know his reputation. He is quite the ladies’ man you could say.”   
His boss only shook his head again. “Listen, I don’t get pie for my beautiful smile every Tuesday and neither do any of the girls on this floor, but I know someone who does.” 

\---

Two weeks later Cas was back from Dubai and Dean had a warm pecan pie in front of him on his table. Pecan wasn’t even a thing in the UK … well, not really. And yet there it was in his yummy perfectness - sticky and delicious. If possible he fell harder for Bond then and there. 

\---

When Cas returned from Washington, he brought sweet potato pie and seeing Dean’s face was worth every pound spent on those delights. Even if he had to make a special order for them every time. But he would do so much more for Moneypenny. 

\---

Dean was out of his chair in a heartbeat, dropping his headset when he saw Cas entering. It had been 2 weeks since he had left for Osaka and Dean had been looking forward to his return. But not like this. He was bruised, his shirt bloody and his coat gone.   
“Cas! What the hell?”   
Bond had a split lip but he smiled at Dean nonetheless. “Ambushed in the street.”   
Dean rushed over, taking some of his weight and guiding him to the chair in the waiting area. Cas struggled a little but let more information slip. “No danger, they’re taken care of.” 

His freckles – yes, definitely the thing he wanted to see last when he died. Of course his wounds were merely superficial but Cas was all the same deciding that Dean’s freckles were a special weakness of his. The whole man was but Cas had to concentrate on little things here, when the edges of his vision went blurry over and over. 

“Why did you come up? Why not go to Dr. Lane right away?”   
“…m fine,” Cas mumbled, wiping at the blood dripping from his lip with his sleeve. When he looked up at Dean he grinned, “… called me Cas.”   
That caught Dean’s attention and he felt his stomach flutter. “I did.”   
“I like it.” 

Cas drifted in and out of consciousness by now but was adamant on getting his report done. Especially since he had unearthed some details on the coup in Brussels that would jeopardize the whole operation there. But first things first. There was still the little parcel in his hands and he managed to put it on the table next to Dean. “… for you,” he whispered. 

Bobby was having none of that heroic shit Cas was mumbling about ‘having to report on time’ and ‘urgent news’. He was injured, maybe even got a blow to the head and he needed Bond at his best. Picking up his phone, he pointed his finger at his agent, grunting. “You’re having the Doctor take a look at you. I don’t particularly enjoy you getting my office bloody.” Finally he got Bond to relent but only after having delivered the intel he had obtained. 

Dean had troubles concentrating the next hour, right up until his eyes fell on the little parcel on the table. He had completely forgotten about it, waiting for his stupid phone to ring with news from 007. ‘For you’ Cas had said and Dean stood up and walked over, curious. The parcel was wrapped in brown paper and looked immaculate. Cas must have put it down or gotten it after the attack. Unfolding it was easy and its contents still kind of warm to the touch. Dean was close to tears. Pie. Cas had bought him a fucking apple pie after having been ambushed. 

When Dean knocked and entered carrying a plate with a slice of apple pie, Bobby groaned. “I don’t believe this!” Moneypenny shrugged and put the baked goods down, waiting.   
“You want a fucking ‘thank you’ note, Dean?”   
“Have you heard from Lane?” Of course Dean would ask about Bond. Those two asshats. Taking as much time as possible, Bobby lifted the plate to his nose and sniffed. “Smells good.”   
“Bobby!”   
“He’s fine, Dean. It’s a concussion not the end of the fuckin’ world. He’ll be up and running in no time. I don’t think the same can be said for his attackers.”

\---

Lemon meringue pie. Cas hadn’t even known that this was a thing but apparently it was. It had taken him a little over two weeks to recover and he had been looking forward to this - Dean leaning over the pie, looking positively glowing.   
“Will you tell me what it tastes like?” he asked Dean, not prepared for when the man jumped out of his chair and rushed to the kitchen, returning with two forks and digging into the pie, scooping up a forkful and holding it out to Cas. It was heaven - and the pie was good as well. 

\---

Sharing his pie with Cas was a step into the right direction. Sometimes Dean was even brave enough to spoon feed him, relishing in the domestic situation. This week’s pie was banana cream pie and Dean was not sure if he would be able to save a slice for Bobby. He was already halfway through the thing.   
If only every day could be Tuesday. 

\---

Bobby could feel a headache creeping in. Of course it had to be on a Tuesday. It was only a matter of minutes until 007 would come in, make mooneyes at his secretary and give a distracted report of his trip to Lima. Just peachy! If only he would refrain from bringing … 

“Cherries,” Dean beamed, “I love cherries!” Cas scratched his head with a gentle smile as if he hadn’t known that but Dean remembered mentioning his craving for cherries once or twice. He was just about to kiss the agent there and then. How was this man equal parts a walking sex god and the most adorable puppy he’d ever seen? Dean must have smiled funny or something because the next thing Cas said was “You are beautiful when you smile.”

Oh God, he did not just say that to his boss’ secretary. Cas froze and saw Dean’s jaw drop as well. He must have overstepped – yes, he pretty sure did and he could not think of anything to say to undo what had been done. All the smugness from having been back from Lima after just 34 hours was gone and he was definitely drowning out here. 

“Get your ass in here, 007,” Bobby screamed, his headache playing hide and seek with his nerves. Bond entered looking flustered and without his usual aplomb. “Great work in Lima, Bond,” he offered, not in the mood for this stupid dance Dean and Cas were doing, “I got you a new one – Dublin.”   
“Dublin? You want me to clean up after Bal …”   
“And I want you to take Moneypenny with you.” 

“… I … what?” No way could he look Dean in the eye after practically announcing his feelings on the spot.   
“Yes, I need him in on this.” Cas was about to protest again when B raised his hand “That is all, 007.”   
His stomach was sinking. “Is there someone else you can send?”   
“Why? Is there a problem, 007?”   
“No, no problem.”   
“Glad to hear it. Good luck then.” 

\---

“Can you see him?”   
Cas rolled his eyes a little at that, whispering into the little device with a sneer. “He is right in front of me, Moneypenny.”   
There was a little pause on the other end. “You could really start calling me ‘Dean’, 007.”   
“We’re doing a job here,” Cas hissed. Working with Dean was everything he had been afraid of and more. Agreed, it was amazing seeing his eternal crush on other days than Tuesday but he was also so very distracting with his suits and ties and glasses and green eyes … oh, Cas was so screwed. 

Dean scanned the room through the little camera lense in one of Cas’ buttons and the moment he saw her, she was already making her way towards Bond. “Tracy is approaching, 007.”   
“I’m not blind you know.”   
God, Cas was so hot when got all riled up and bossy. Dean really shouldn’t be enjoying himself like that. The woman walking up to him looked like an expensive hooker really. What is up with showing it all? Ok, maybe Dean was getting a little jealous here but it all got worse when she opened her mouth: “Well, hello there handsome.” Ugh!  
And then it was Cas’ deep, raspy voice in his ear, speaking to Tracy Buchanon.   
“Mrs. Buchanon. I’m Bond. Cas Bond.” 

She really was a remarkably beautiful woman - tall, long dark waves and big hazel eyes. If Bond were alone, he would definitely be tempted to blow off some steam with her. He did so regularly, always working around the disappointment of not finding Dean writhing underneath him. Now with the man so close Cas would never manage to keep his thoughts away from him for long enough but he had to do a job here and flirting with the wife of an IRA agent was part of his role - and flirt he did but would he invite her to his suite? Yes, he would. 

The room was too small and the ceiling too close. Dean had gotten rid of his ear piece half an hour ago but the last he had heard had been enough to burst his bubble and leave him empty. Right this moment Cas was making love to Tracy Buchanon to get information on her husband. How he could have deceived himself like that was beyond him. Ok, so Bond had called him ‘beautiful’, so what? Dean had given this so much thought but he must have missed something. So Bond truly was a ladies’ man. Fuck! 

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, voice steady. Wow, that had never happened to him before but Bond was unmistakably aware why it had happened now. Dean. All he could see now, all he could think of was Dean. Whispering his name when trying to fuck a woman was in fact a new low. He sat on the bed, all hunched shoulders, scanning the floor for his clothes. Tracy will want him gone but at least he got the information he needed. And maybe Dean will finally understand what he meant to Cas. The sun, the moon, the stars - everything. 

\---

“B wants me to stay on for two or three days. I got your flight ticket here and a taxi will pick you up at 10am,” Dean said, staring at his breakfast plate. Distancing him from Cas was painful and that in and of itself was embarrassing since they hadn’t even spent that much time together. But after what had happened and how it had made him feel, he just couldn’t afford to fall for Bond’s blue eyes and charming smile any more. Once he was back in London he would call Benny for some casual fun and finally agree to let Sam set him up for a date with the ‘dashing’ engineer working for his little brother. Dean might even trade his Tuesday shift with Joe. 

Disgusted. Yes, Dean must have been shocked and disgusted when Cas had whispered his name instead of Tracy’s. He was openly gay. That much Cas had been able to find out just by carefully asking around but maybe he wasn’t Dean’s type or maybe he was just not into getting involved with a colleague. Either way, Cas had blown it with him. In epic proportions. Just like that all the bright smiles and fond memories were tainted and that hurt horribly. “I understand. Thank you, Dean.” 

He looked up from his fried egg, wide eyed and stunned into silence. Cas stared back, completely oblivious. When Dean found his voice again he stumbled over the sentence: “That is the first time you called me that.” Of course, now that it was too late, Cas would just get all friendly with him.   
“I ... ,” Cas started slowly, pausing and then his head dropped a little and he finished with, “I’m sorry, Moneypenny.”   
Dean got up: “Goodbye 007, I’ll see you around.” 

\---

Bobby was absolutely done with this shit. “You want to switch your Tuesday shift to Wednesday? Are you joking, Moneypenny? You begged for this slot on your knees, batting your eyes at me like a fucking Disney princess!”   
At least Dean had the decency to look rueful at that. “I know.”   
Oh god, those two would be his death. Rubbing his temples, he probed further: “And now, first thing after you’re back, you want to switch because you no longer got the hots for Bond?” 

“What? No!” Oh god, Dean would just have a cry on his boss’ shoulder.   
“What then? I had set this up hoping you would get all cozy with each other and I would not have to see you two drooling over each other.”   
“He had sex with Tracy Buchanon,” Dean offered, no longer able to keep silent about his feelings.   
“And?”   
“Well, since I ain’t Tracy Buchanon this was somewhat of a deal breaker for me.”   
“He does that for his job, you know.”   
Ok, now that was bullshit. “So what you’re saying is that he’s a hooker?”   
“It’s his MO, Dean. Always has been and you know it.”   
“No, I thought he liked having sex.”   
“You need to grow the fuck up, Moneypenny! And I will not have you switch shifts! That would be all.” 

\---

Tuesday - how the hell was he supposed to make it through that? All day he had been fidgeting with his tie, adjusting his glasses and practising his ‘not interested’ look. And for what? Bond entered and Dean just had to flash him a smile, maybe it was not as bright as usual but it was there. He would never not enjoy seeing that man. “Good morning, 007. Back so soon?”   
“Good morning, Moneypenny. I like your new suit.”   
How did he know? How could he notice things like that? 

He had decided to work through his unrequited feelings. Seeing and talking to Dean had been enough those past years and would have to continue to be so. “Glad you like it,” Moneypenny said in response, getting up. Of course Dean wanted to take his coat. Cas shook his head with the tiniest smile on his lips, withdrawing the arm with the trench coat and offering the one with the paper bag instead. “Blueberry. It’s one of my favourites,” he said, walking past quickly and entering B’s office without knocking. 

“Fucking idjits!”   
“Excuse me?”   
Bobby looked up from his laptop. “Thank you for your report, 007. It just confirms how big of a dofus you are.”   
“I … I don’t understand.”   
“And I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. What I care about is my secretary and my top agent being stupid saps. Now take your ass out there and make up with Dean or I’ll swear to God, I’ll skin you both alive!”   
There was real pain in Bond’s eyes: “I would, B, honestly. But Dean doesn’t want me.”   
“That’s it! I’m done.” 

Dean was still eyeing the pie when his boss shot out of his office, pulling Cas after him. “So,” he huffed, pointing at Dean, “he has been in love with you in forever, 007. I would never hear the end of it. And he took off the ear piece, not able to stand listening in on your sexy time with Mrs. IRA.” This was not happening. His boss had not just laid it all out for Cas to walk all over him. 

Cas’ jaw dropped and his heart was beating so fast that he had to concentrate on evening out his breathing. But B was not done, turning to him and raising an accusatory finger.   
“And he is head over heels as well. He talks of nothing else but you, Dean. Even going so far as to whisper your name instead of hers in Tracy Buchanon’s ear, subsequently losing his boner …”   
“Actually I didn’t even get it up in the first place.” He looked at Dean with a smile, offering a little shrug. “I couldn’t sleep with her, with you close by, Dean. I tried but I couldn’t. I love you.” 

“Thank fuck! Now kiss please and never talk to me again about your ‘feelings’. I am not your fairy godfather, thank you very much!” Bobby huffed, heading out - not into his office where he would have heard it all but effectively leaving the floor. Gratulations on a job well done, Singer. That should be enough of a good deed for the whole year. 

Dean was still staring at Cas. He hadn’t slept with that woman. He had whispered his name. He loved him. Loved him?   
“You love me?” he managed, trying to keep the excitement down. Make sure. Make sure. Seeing the shy smile on Cas’ face sealed the deal and Dean rushed over. “Come here!” he said, pulling Cas forward and pressing their mouths together.

Cas wanted it to go on forever, the feel of Dean’s tongue exploring his mouth, the way his body moved - it just felt right. When he had to break the kiss to get some air, he looked up at Dean through hooded eyes: “So, how about mixed berry pie?”   
“Next Tuesday?”   
Bond smiled and gave Dean a quick peck. “I was going to suggest tomorrow …”   
“Awesome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the first chapter written for this and it is one of my favorites just because ... Dean!Moneypenny <3
> 
> I did think of various ways to avoid the british setting but in the end I just decided to go with it and embrace the ridiculousness of having an American run MI6 XD. Hope it doesn't throw you all off too much :).   
> As always - thanks for reading!


	10. Ten Orks A-Slayin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LOTR AU   
> Dean and Castiel meet each other right before the battle of Helm's Deep.   
> Fluff only but the last 2 chapters are gonna be smutty again ;).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, 
> 
> so my beta readers gave me a hard time since the battle of Helm's Deep is fought by Uruks and not "Orks" but that did not work with the melody of the song.   
> In my mind there could have been Orks as well - dwelling in the mountains nearby ^^. Hope you don't mind.  
> Also Dean's speach is a little more polished since it worked with the setting.   
> That said - I hope you like it :).

Déaner had seen many a rainy night. He had even fought in them, water dripping from his helmet, drenching his undergarments and slowing his movement. Still he had come out alive, victorious even. This was not to be one of those nights, not just any battle. Helm’s Deep was a mighty fortress, having seen and withstood battle since the beginning of the Third Age but the army marching on them now was bred for a single purpose - to rid the world of men. And it was commanded by none other than Saruman, a wizard, who had until fairly recently been their friend and ally, offering counsel and aid in times of need. Déaner could remember having stood watch when his king and Saruman the White had discussed many issues concerning the Riddermark, the wizard wise and kind and generous in his support. But not soon after the king had changed and Déaner had watched him alienate his family, growing old and weak. If there was something good to be said about the night ahead of him, it was that Théoden King would lead them into this last battle restored to his former glory. For the battle would be their last. The fortress was held by close to 300 men, not all suited for war, and they would face a force 10.000 strong. Even in Helm’s Deep, their ancient stronghold, they could not come out of this victorious.

Death was a part of life he had been raised to accept. His mother had died an untimely death and his father had raised two children on his own, retreating to a life of solitude once they were old enough to do their military duty. He was now one of the few Rohirrim guarding one of the many beacons situated along the White Mountains, designed by the kingdom of Gondor to function as a way to call for help in times of need. He was keeper of Min-Rimmon. Déaner had not seen his father in years. At least his brother Saémthred would hopefully not see battle tonight, for he was riding with Éomer, the king’s nephew, who had been banished before Théoden had been healed by Gandalf. Déaner had left his younger brother a note, hidden in the fortress should he die and his brother live.

The night was cold and the men frightened, not a single one among them foolish enough to hope for the best. Déaner sharpened his spear again, trying to work through the silence before the storm when a strange horn could be heard. He had fought orks and goblins before but this was not a sound their forces would make. Curious as to the source he followed a group of elder warriors to the gates. The Dúnedan was running over the shield wall towards them as well, shouting for the watchers to open the gate and they did. The sight was one Déaner would have liked to share with his brother. They had seen elves and traded with them once or twice but never had they ever seen an elvish warrior. Their armor was shining like the sun, their blond hair full of skilful braids and their bows were almost as big as the elves tall. They marched through the gates and past Déaner to meet King Théoden and Aragorn, for that was the ranger’s name. The force stopped and his spear slipped from Déaner’s hand. He cursed and got to one knee to pick it up when he was suddenly face to face with one of the strange warriors, who had done the same to hand Déaner his weapon back. Lightning struck somewhere on the mountain and Déaner felt like it had hit him. The elf was not sporting the same light mane as his kinsmen. His hair was long and dark and braided in a different fashion as if he was not from the same region as the other elves. There was something aethereal about him, something otherworldly. 

They stood at the same time, gaze locked. “I assume this is your weapon,” the elf said, looking at Déaner with his bright blue eyes and holding out the spear to him. Déaner remembered some of the lessons his father taught his children to prepare them for the cruel world out there and the little he had picked up when dealing with one of the Elven traders.  
“Le fael,” Déaner said, taking his weapon back, “for the spear and your support in this. You bring hope when we had already given up.” Up front the elvish armor was far more impressive, strengthened in all the right places and decorated with artful applications. The warrior saw Déaner looking and followed his gaze to the golden leaves on his shoulder plates. Déaner shrugged: “I’ve never seen an Elvish warrior before.” “And I have never fought alongside men in all my life.” “Never? Aren’t you supposed to be immortal?” Déaner asked. “We are also born into this world and my time here has not yet passed 800 years.” The elf seemed a little irritated, starting to turn away but Déaner took his arm, ready to make amends at once. “My apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he said, “I am Déaner, rider of Rohan.” “Gi suilon, Déaner, rider of Rohan. My name is Castiel and my home is Rivendell, the house of the Lord Elrond.” Déaner nodded, remembering a story about the descendents of Elrond being dark-haired and more open to men and dwarves then some of their kinsmen. He was about to ask Castiel about it when his stomach growled embarrassingly. The elf tilted his head, which made him look very young suddenly and then he produced a strange kind of crispy bread from one of his pockets. “This is called lembas,” he said, offering it to Déaner, “Eat! You will need your strength this night. War is at your doorstep.”

Waiting on the brink of battle usually was the hardest part for Déaner but not this time. His place on the wall was so close to the elves that he could see Castiel a few feet away from him. It was a mystery but somehow Déaner found himself watching the elf again and again, his fluid motions, the way his hair danced in the wind, how he readjusted his armor three or four times. Déaner had never been intrigued by someone like he was by Castiel. He had lain with women on various occasions but he had never formed a strong bond with any of them, never burned to be close to them, never looked upon them like he did now on this foreign warrior. If Déaner were to die tonight, he was glad he got to behold elven beauty like Castiel’s once. The elf turned his head and their eyes met, resulting in Déaner blushing and Castiel raising one of his brows in question.

The orks could be heard hours before the elves spotted them, their feet trampling the grassy fields as they went. When their horns sounded it was so different from the uplifting sound made by the elvish trumpets. These spoke of war and death. Déaner had heard what Gandalf the White had said, had thought about the number but nothing could have prepared him for what it felt like to behold 10.000 Uruk-hai marching on their fortress. Even with the elves their number was not up to a tenth of theirs. Déaner’s shoulders slumped slightly, hit by the sheer hopelessness of their situation. “Do not despair, Déaner of Rohan, for there is always hope.” The voice was deep and soft and Déaner wanted to wrap himself in it, take it with him wherever he went for the remainder of his time among the living. It made him stand taller in the face of defeat and extinction, lit the flame of hope again and all of that achieved with a few kind words. “This must be elven magic,” Déaner said with a smile, “you have the power to give me back the strength to face what lies ahead.” Castiel smiled back and to Déaner this was beauty and grace in its essence. “I only rekindle what sleeps in you,” Castiel said, bringing his hand up to rest on Dean’s chest plate, “you provide what I get to work with yourself, Déaner.”

The battle was cruel and most of the time Déaner was occupied with cutting ropes, bringing down ladders and grappling hooks as quickly as possible for the enemy had come prepared, equipped with siege machinery Déaner had never seen before. So far they had held their ground but after hours of cutting and fighting the army to their feet still looked like an ocean of black, foes as far as men could see. Déaner had kept track of Castiel this whole time, checking his whereabouts now and then, relieved when he saw him shooting arrow after arrow at their enemy, bringing down several Uruk-hai from what Déaner could tell. It kept him grounded to know where the elf was, gave him a purpose.

The ground was shaking and with a loud explosion a part of the wall exploded, taking men and elves with it, before more were lost when other parts of their great wall caved. Déaner had been near the fortress when it happened and he rushed back only to see that Castiel was gone. A sickening feeling bubbled up in him then, not only at seeing their defence destroyed but at the thought of Castiel perishing. He scanned the wall and then his eyes fell on a group of elves, standing with Aragorn to meet the charging enemy down at ground level. Castiel was among them, his dark hair making him stand out among his kinsmen. He was alive but at the front line when the Orks and Uruks swarmed through the hole in the wall. Déaner ran towards the steps, stumbling here and there since his eyes were focussed on Castiel. He saw him slay seven Orks, eight ... nine. The one finally bringing him down was number ten, an ugly giant with a long lance and a white hand painted on his chest. With a scream he charged, hitting Castiel between his armor plates, bringing him to his knees. Déaner cursed and when he reached the ground he ran to where Castiel had fallen. He slashed his way through, ignoring the warning shouts from another Rohirrim until he finally reached Castiel. The elf had brought his opponent down with him. Falling to his knees, Déaner removed Castiel’s helmet and gasped when he saw that the elf was still alive and breathing, looking up at him. “Déaner,” he tried, blood trickling from his wound. “Ssh. I’ll get you out of here.” Watch duty in Helm’s Deep had always been the least favourite of his chores but now Déaner thanked the heavens for his good fortune. He knew the place like the back of his hand and he dragged Castiel away towards the fortress tower. There near its base was a single little storage chamber, a tiny room formerly used as a place for the guard to lay down when being relieved of duty, stocked with a few basic supplies. The door opened and Déaner looked around for charging Uruk-hai, literally dropping Castiel when he was attacked by one of the smaller Orks, who had watched him disappear and had followed them from the battle field. It was an easy kill and Déaner was sure that they were hidden from sight now when he dragged Castiel into the chamber and closed the door.

“You should be fighting,” Castiel whispered but Déaner shook his head. “We are overrun. Whether we win or lose does not lie with me now but whether you live or die does.” He removed Castiel’s breast plate carefully, inspecting the damage. The wound was deep but no piece of clothing had entered. He nodded and looked through the things stored in the chamber. There was a sheep skin and Déaner was excited when he saw it. He removed the cork and smelled the liquid within, shuddering. “This will help clean the wound, keep infection away,” he said and when Castiel nodded he poured the liquid over the wound. The elf winced slightly but when Déaner made sure that it was clean and put a pressure bandage on the wound he smiled gently. “What?” “Le fael. Thank you,” he said, taking Déaner’s hand in his, prompting a shaky breath coming from the man. The elf shivered a little and his eyes widened when Déaner didn’t hesitate to lie down on the same small bed as Castiel. “You’re freezing,” he said, edging closer and wrapping his arms around the wounded elf as if he did this every day. Déaner wished he could. Castiel listened to the battle for a long time before he turned to face Déaner. “It’s dawning,” he said. “Dawn,” Déaner echoed. “I think I hear something,” Castiel went on, closing his eyes to concentrate, “turmoil in the enemy’s ranks. Someone is arriving they had not expected.” “Saémthred! Éomer!” Dean jumped up and opened the door. He could hear the sounding horns now too. Éomer had truly come. His brother had come, Déaner would live and Castiel would be saved. “Agoreg vae,” Castiel said with a tender smile, “is this what you hoped for, Déaner?” From the door frame Déaner looked back at the elf and he smiled, the happiest smile he was capable of. “And so much more!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one is really short and not at all perfect - though I really love Cas as an elf. Yay :)!  
> Regardless - I hope I will find time later on to give this a little makeover.  
> Lots of love & take care.


	11. Eleven Tumblers Emptied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Season 5 (5.03).  
> Dean wants Cas to lose his virginity but things take a different turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So SMUT again!  
> Cas POV.  
> Hope you like it :).  
> Almost done, you guys. Just one more after this...

1

„One,“ Castiel said, picking up the tumbler of the counter, downing it with one swift swig. The sound of the glass being set down was loud in his ears but the girl behind the bar smiled at him regardless. Obviously she was used to the noise surrounding her, giggling and laughing with her customers. She only wore a bra and a slip, which Castiel would think was a little too small for her and too revealing… anyway he felt guilty and needed a distraction so looking at the girl was what he hoped would do the trick. It did not though. Castiel was not used to the steamy buzz around him and he was not at all comfortable. Feeling a pang of guilt was just the tip of the iceberg. 

Dean wanted him to lose his virginity and the angel felt like he should at least give it a valiant try. The hunter talked about sexual intercourse as if it was something you should not miss out on and Castiel wanted to experience new things, get a broader perspective of human life, be a witness to all its ups and downs, but something was amiss. He had come here with Dean willingly, having agreed to ‘get laid’ as he would call it, but upon arriving Castiel had expected for the act to be over fairly quickly, but instead Dean had talked about making the right choice. He went on about how important it was to find someone Castiel felt comfortable with, drawn to. 

The problem was that Castiel felt the most comfortable with the man he had come here with. Dean Winchester, the man he had raised from hell and rebelled for. If anything he would feel drawn to him as the first human he had ever laid his hands on, the one human that wore his handprint, his mark on his shoulder. 

So coming here, Castiel had expected to perform the act based on attraction only. He was aware that physical attraction played a key role in this kind of human interaction, but having Dean talk of the ‘right choice’ made the angel think of human emotions, the way they feel connected to each other, and it just made him that much more aware what he would deem to be the ‘right partner’ for him in this endeavor. But that just would not do. 

 

2

“Two,” he went on, taking the second whiskey and gulping it down like the first. This was pointless, a futile imitation of human behavior and Castiel knew it. Courage was not something you could conjure up with something called a ‘scotch’. And Dean really wouldn’t want Castiel to find his courage either way for that would only result in his being awkward around the angel. But Castiel wanted to at least appease Dean enough for them to leave this sinful place. He had so far not voiced interest in any girl and after the first thirty minutes the hunter had just sighed and ordered whiskey. 

“How much to get you drunk enough to get that stick out of your feathery angel ass, huh?” he asked with raised brows and a wink.

“How many do you drink for an occasion like this?” 

“For me?” Dean looked a little offended at first but then he took a deep breath, schooling his features. “Look buddy, I usually don’t need … uh … courage but … I guess two or three should do it. You don’t want to ...” his eyes had drifted down to below Castiel’s belt and the angel followed his look, raising his brows questioningly. Dean had rolled his eyes and huffed. “You don’t want to take your little fellow out of the game before the real action.” Castiel had not understood and just stared at Dean with round eyes until Dean had broken the connection and hemmed. “Anyway, how many you want?” 

The angel had thought about it for a brief moment. “Thirty then.” 

Dean’s eyes had gotten wide. “Whoa, cool your pans there. Thirty will not get you in a ladies panty but under the fucking earth.” 

“I am an angel, Dean. Alcohol will not get me killed.” 

“Yeah, ok, whatever. You order whatever you like and I’ll be back in a chiffy,” Dean had said but when he had actually moved Castiel had blocked his way. 

“You’re not leaving?” 

“Jesus, relax, buddy. I’m just taking a piss.” 

And this was how Castiel had ended up at the bar, a row of thirty whiskeys in front of him.

 

3

“Three,” he said, eyeing the golden liquid and pouring it down. Dean was taking longer than expected and Castiel felt more exposed like this. More than once a girl went over and asked something but the angel never once talked back. When the third girl turned her attention away from him and to an older man sitting at a high chair, the girl behind the bar walked over and put her elbows on the counter, leaning forward enough to expose her cleavage. Castiel looked at the empty glass in his hand. 

“Hi there,” the girl said with a broad grin, “you seem like the shy type. All looks and drinks and no mingling whatsoever.” She was frail looking. Very pale and skinny with huge grey eyes and dark hair.  
“Not a big talker, eh? And you sure are picky. Lola is like one of the best sellers in here and she was not happy to be ignored by the looks of it.”  
Lola had been the last girl to chat him up. A busty blonde with eyes dark as coals and a silky voice, who had put her hand on Castiel’s crotch before she even said her first word. None of these had made him feel comfortable or had seemed like the ‘right choice’.  
The girl behind the bar leaned forward a little more and whispered: “You definitely have got not reason to be shy, you know.” 

Castiel finally tilted his head and made a great show of looking her in the eyes. “I am not shy, Nancy,” he said, rummaging through her mind, “and you can find another job. You have an education and will find another way to feed your little brother. Jacob doesn’t like it here.” He thought of the little boy hiding in the adjacent storage room, playing with two broken toy cars right this very moment. If anything he owed it to him to make Nancy face reality. But instead she swallowed a husky scream and jerked back with a shocked expression as if she’d burned herself. Still staring at Castiel she fumbled for her coat before making a dash for the storage room door and emerging a second later with the little boy in her arms and determined never to return. At least that could be counted as a small victory. 

 

4

“Four”, he continued, waiting for Dean to get back. He was positive now that he would not sleep with a woman tonight. If anything he felt pity for them. Yes, most were happy enough with their occupation but some were outright disgusted by their job. Castiel didn’t feel like searching for a girl who was in fact interested in sleeping with him and not the money. 

“Whoa, Cas. Who’s gonna pay for that?” Dean asked, eyes wide at the array of tumblers on the counter, “do you even know how much the charge for booze in here?” 

“I have no use for money, Dean.” 

“Yeah, ok. Keep it down with that, will ya! You’ll get us kicked out!” 

“The bartender won’t charge us.”

“How ... ? Why …? Nevermind - I don’t even want to know. Free booze’s awesome!”

“Are you going to drink with me?” Castiel asked, pushing a tumbler towards Dean and raising the glass in his hand, “I can guarantee that the barkeeper will not be back anytime soon.” 

“The fuck, Cas. These are all doubles!” the hunter burst out, looking at the line of whiskeys. 

“Yes, I felt like I needed a lot of ‘courage’,” Castiel answered, downing his fourth glass. That was a lie but it was a white lie and Dean would not question it. He was too content with free whisky to argue. His throat contracted around the liquid when he poured it down. Looking at Dean was something Castiel enjoyed greatly. There was so much hidden in his expressions, so much buried underneath, so much waiting to be unearthed. 

Dean must have caught him staring because he frowned. Castiel liked his frown as well. It was an expression that was so essentially Dean that the angel often smiled up at the human when he wore it. 

“What?” Dean snapped. 

“Tell me again how you chose a suitable partner, Dean. What do you look for?” 

“Well, it’s not exactly rocket science, Cas. You don’t have to invent the wheel here. Find someone you’re ... uhm ... attracted to and see if you hit it off.” 

“How do I see that?” 

Dean took another whiskey and drank it. “Jesus, buddy. We’re in a brothel. No girl will say no.” 

“I would want a willing partner, Dean.” 

The hunter turned to him and placed a heavy hand on the angel’s shoulder. “Listen, you are a good looking guy. Trust me – they’re going to be ‘willing’.” 

Castiel thought this over but he was not convinced. “How do you judge the outer appearance, Dean? Isn’t this something unique to every human - personal taste? How would I know whether someone finds me pleasing?” 

“For god’s sake, man. You’re tall, your face is like that of a fucking greek statue with that plush mouth of yours, your eyes are like straight out of a fairy tale and your hair looks like you just had sex. Trust me – you’re hot!” 

Dean stopped and looked away. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable. Castiel narrowed his eyes. He had never thought about the outer appearance of his vessel. Jimmy Novak had been chosen because he asked for this, wanted to be of service. Castiel would not have given a second thought whether he was ‘hot’ or not. Angels primarily perceived the reflection of the human soul and the shell around it was only visible when they focused on it. Before Castiel could think about Dean’s shell he pushed another whiskey towards the human.

 

5

“Five,” he said, placing the glass back on the counter at the same time as Dean did. The hunter made a funny grunting noise and looked over at Castiel. 

“I’m not going to get any action if I drink five of these.” 

“I don’t want to keep you from your sexual release ...” 

“Can it,” Dean said, hand on Castiel’s shoulder again, “we’re here to pop your cherry, not mine. ‘Though that ship has sailed looong ...” 

“I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Sure you can. That’s easy enough. You see the ... uhm ... long thing goes in the round thing.” 

Castiel glared at the hunter then. “I know the technicalities, Dean. Don’t forget that I’ve watched humanity for centuries!” 

“Yeah, nice. Keep the creep down a little around the girls though, Mr. Voyeurism.” 

“Dean! I don’t want any of those girls.” 

Finally something changed in Dean’s behaviour and he looked flustered. “Why? Is it about … uhm … are you into guys? ‘Cause I could find you one of those as well I guess,” he said, voice a little tense, eyes scanning the room. Or was he actively avoiding Castiel?

 

6

The angel felt a pang of regret and emptied his sixth glass. He should just get it over with and stop making Dean uncomfortable. The whiskey tasted better the more he drank and he was getting nice and warm inside. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to pick a random girl or maybe he should rely on Dean’s expertise. 

“I am not particular about gender,” he was surprised to hear himself say. No, he wanted to get Dean to pick a girl for him. Maybe one with green eyes like Dean. He loved Dean’s eyes. They were so familiar. 

“Dean,” he started and raised his head to the hunter standing by his side, “I cannot make a decision.” Not quite what he had wanted to say but Dean picked up on his meaning as of course he would. He never had such an understanding with a human before, a connection like the one he had with Dean Winchester. 

“Ok, buddy. I’ll be back soon,” he said with a wink, “don’t drink all that in the meantime, huh?” And then he was gone again. Castiel felt lonely without him. When had he started to feel lonely at all?

 

7

“Seven,” he counted. Why he had started counting he could not say. It made sense to monitor his reaction to the substance. And he liked counting things – stars in the sky, fish in the sea, freckles on Dean’s skin, shades of green in Dean’s eyes, minutes until he saw Dean again. Dean. If Castiel would want to be close to someone it would always be Dean. No, he had to focus on something else like the way the bar was filling up more and more with suitors. Some were married and Castiel did not like that. He turned towards this wonderful whiskey liquid again.

 

8

Another glass was empty when Castiel’s thoughts drifted again to Dean. What would it be like to be with someone? Share physical pleasure, taste the other’s skin, trace every line on his body. Castiel was curious of course but he was also aware that his vessel was male and Dean was into females. He would not be able to pose the question to him. That courage would not come from a golden liquid that came in a tumbler.

 

9

When Castiel had just finished his ninth whiskey, Dean walked over with a girl. She was beautiful. Dark hair, big blue eyes, soft lips and a cute smile on her face. Castiel would have chosen differently though. He would have gone for straight angles, green eyes, a pouty mouth and a frown instead of a smile. So Dean again. 

“That is Lydia,” Dean said, introducing the girl to Castiel with a wink, “she is by far the most gorgeous girl you could find in here.” He seemed very proud of his choice. 

The girl giggled and took Castiel’s hand. He turned and looked at Dean when she manoeuvred him through the crowd towards one of the rooms in the back. The hunter raised both thumbs and took one of the whiskeys. Then he was out of sight. 

Castiel looked at the girl – Lydia – then and he knew that she had given a false name. Her real name was Antonia and she was engaged. She was also still suffering from the loss of her father not a year ago and was trying to make some money for the trip to Minneapolis to visit her mum. Castiel felt for her and he tried to offer consolation. 

It did not work out as he had thought though. Antonia screamed - very much louder and noticeably than Nancy had done - and ran for the door, disappearing through it in a flash. Castiel was not sure about his appeal then. He was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened when Dean pulled at his coat and pushed him along a corridor and out on the street. The human was laughing and Castiel blinked at him, still a little dazed and confused. The sound was beautiful, especially since he did not get to hear it often enough. Something washed over him and Castiel realised that it was relieve. He was glad that he had not taken this girl to bed with him. It was Dean he wanted. It was Dean he loved.

 

10

Their motel room was small but Castiel felt more comfortable there. He stumbled into the kitchen and took the whiskey bottle from the shelf where Dean had placed it earlier. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve hadn’t had enough of that,” Dean chuckled. Castiel filled a glass and downed it. 

“That was unpleasant,” he stated, sitting down at the kitchen table. 

Dean joined him and nodded. “Yeah. Listen, Cas, I’m sorry about that.” 

The angel looked up at him and he could see it. Dean was disappointed.  
“I am sorry, Dean. I should have known that there is more to sexual relations then looks.” 

“You wanna run that by me again?” 

Castiel knew he should hold his tongue now, make himself shut up. “I seem to be more of an ‘old-fashioned’ guy about sex then you are.” 

“You lost me there, buddy.” 

Castiel wanted Dean to understand but he was apparently not able to achieve his goal with that. “For you intercourse seems to be about ‘blowing off steam’,” he tried, earning a funny face from Dean, “I on the other hand would have liked to share this experience with someone I love.” 

“Do angels love?” 

Castiel’s head shot up, giving Dean an annoyed glare. “Of course we love!” 

“Whoa, easy there, I think you told me that emotions are off the table for you angel folk.” 

And this was exactly why that should be the case. Angels should be impartial; they should be the weapon in the hand of the lord, silent and obedient, and definitely not pining over the humans in their charge.

 

11

Castiel had emptied the whole bottle, silent and brooding. It was 4am but Dean was still sitting with him. 

“You wanna talk about this elephant herd in the room anytime soon? ‘Cause I don’t know ‘bout you but I wanna hit the sack and that won’t happen with you drowning yourself in my whiskey, so spill!” 

“I cannot do that, Dean. I would make you uncomfortable.” 

“Cas, this chair is making me uncomfortable, this,” he gestured at the room and between them both, “situation is making me all kinds of uncomfortable and I’m all out of patience pie so ...” 

“I would have liked to have sexual intercourse, Dean.” 

“Yeah, I know I promised you won’t die a virgin. Sorry but then you should have kept silent about that girl’s dad.” 

“That’s not what I meant, Dean.” 

“We can try again if we live, ok? You happy with that?” 

“No, Dean,” Castiel huffed, feeling strangely light-headed. They could be dead tomorrow. Yes, actually that was not only likely but almost a certainty. “I would have liked to choose my own partner.” 

“Hey! You sent me, now don’t put that on me, ok.” 

“I don’t. My choice was not available.” 

“So … you’re telling me that you’ve had your eye on someone the whole time? The fuck, Cas! Why didn’t you just say so? She would have been ...” 

“He would not have been interested!” Castiel snapped. 

“So you are into guys! Geez, Cas, really? And you couldn’t have told me that?” 

“There was no point. He is not interested in men.” 

The room was silent then, Castiel trying to find consolation at the bottom of the empty bottle and Dean scratching his head awkwardly. The human broke the silence not long after. 

“Ok, listen. I know it’s too late for that now but next time just ask the guy. You know he might just be interested. I mean ... Jesus, I’m a guy and I think you’re hot!” 

“But would you want to sleep with a man? Would you want to sleep with me because I am ‘hot’?” 

Dean was getting a bit riled up, gesticulating even more than he usually did. “I don’t know, Cas. Don’t go all Sigmund Freud on me. It’s not me you got the hots for.” 

Castiel looked at him then, really looked at him, at Dean’s face, his eyes, his lips – those were truly nice lips and he let his gaze linger, all the pent up want and need bleeding into the journey his eyes made, lingering on all his favourite spots, zooming in on all those perfectly shaped freckles on Dean’s skin. The hunter tensed and the angel locked eyes with him then, trying to prepare himself and accept every emotion Dean would voice but the man only huffed, his shoulders relaxing with the long breath he took. It was as if he had made a decision and Castiel was ready to face rejection. 

Instead Dean stood up and with the angel’s eyes glued to every minute movement, shed his shirt and grinned. He was so beautiful - graceful and confident. There was nothing to be done - Castiel’s jaw just dropped and all he could do was stare up at Dean, who was still waiting a few feet away from him.  
It might have been a few seconds or whole minutes but Dean suddenly chuckled. 

“Yeah, ok. You know what, you uptight angel? This is usually the moment you kinda … step up … uh … jump in. Whatever! I said you wouldn’t die a virgin on my watch and I plan on keeping my word.” 

It was Castiel’s place to tense now, uncertain of what Dean was implying until the hunter took three steps towards him and bend down. With a gentle motion he lifted his hands, cupping the angel’s face, and leaned in. 

Castiel hadn’t expected it to feel like this; Dean’s lips on his, moving gently, giving him free just to claim him again a moment later. There was warmth spreading through him, a heat building, a need bubbling up from where it had been buried all this time. Castiel covered Dean’s hand with his own, trying to make his want known, his approval understood. He sucked at Dean’s lips and the moment the hunter opened his mouth a little to breathe, Cas pushed forward, standing up and meeting Dean’s tongue halfway. The angel groaned through it and opened his mouth wider, giving Dean access but the gentle thing they had going was not enough to appease the growing want. Using his strength Castiel pushed Dean backwards against the wall. 

The hunter gasped and his eyes flew open, staring at Cas, momentarily stunned. It made Castiel’s heart skip a beat when he felt Dean’s erection through his jeans. The human liked this, wanted it like he himself did. With growing satisfaction Castiel pushed their bodies even closer together and dived back in to continue the kissing Dean had started. But the hunter was getting impatient as well and he wedged his leg between Castiel’s pushing upward until it rubbed against his vessel’s hard-on. The friction was heavenly and Castiel felt a little shameless when he went after it. Dean broke the kiss, gasping for air while moving with the angel he was entangled with. “Fuck, Cas ...,” he whispered, bringing their foreheads together, “... you feel amazing.” 

Emboldened by his words, Castiel moved his hands down to Dean’s ass, kneading it before lifting the hunter up and carrying him over to the small motel bed. 

“That should be bigger,” he said, irritated after sizing it up, but Dean just grinned and bit Castiel’s earlobe, eliciting a soft gasp from the angel. 

“It’s big enough if you’re going to be on top of me,” he whispered, getting Cas blood going. 

“But you said ...,” the angel started, looked deep into Dean’s eyes. 

“What? Huh?” Ok, Dean had not actually said it. 

“I thought you haven’t been with a man,” Castiel explained. Dean chuckled. 

“Relax, Cas. I have. Long story short - I was drunk but it was ok.” 

Castiel knew he should be relieved but at the same time he felt a pang of disappointment. He would have liked to be Dean’s first male sexual partner. And ‘ok’ did not sound like the word to describe an enjoyable experience, which also meant that there was room for improvement. 

“Hey! Earth to Cas. You going to get me on that bed any time this century?” 

Yes, he was going to do that, and more. With a broad grin Castiel threw Dean down, sending him bouncing before he shed his coat. It was a gratifying moment, getting naked in front of Dean, watching the man look up at every part of his body with sparkling eyes, seeing the same want in them as he felt for Dean. Castiel was not vain per se but he loved the adoration he was met with and he let his grace shine through, his eyes shining blue and his wings casting shadows on the wall behind him. 

“Jesus, Cas, enough with the boasting! Get the fuck on me now!” 

The angel raised his brow, thinking how he was usually the one to give orders and took a few seconds to decide the next course of action but then the need to touch Dean again was getting impossible to ignore and he crept up the bed, eyes fixed on Dean. On the way he left a kiss on the inside of his thigh, on his hip bone, next to his belly button and on his right nipple, relishing the way the hunter squirmed underneath him. When he was at eye level with Dean he dipped down and claimed his mouth again, lowering his body until he was finally skin to skin with Dean. 

He should really have gotten rid of Dean’s jeans by now. Castiel was not patient enough to do this the human way and he just used his angel mojo to get Dean naked as well. When he rolled his hips and brought their erections together the hunter moaned into their kiss, a sound that went straight to Cas’ cock. With a grin the angel started to descent on Dean again, mouthing at his neck and throat for a while, when he found that this was something his human was very receptive to. If only he had the time to find all sensitive spots on the man’s body, memorizing them to draw maps in his mind whenever he felt like it. He looked up at Dean when he passed his chest and stomach, the hunter looking down at him through hooded eyes, breathing heavily. 

“Cas ...,” he started but once the angel took his cock in his hand and stroked, squeezing slightly, Dean apparently forgot what he was going to say, head falling back. “Yes, yeah, Cas. Like that, fuck.” Feedback was always good but Dean’s being vocal at a moment like this was a gift from heaven. It was so easy to adapt to his wishes, to the way his body reacted. He made his wishes known not only by words but by the movements he made, leaning into a touch or just by the endless yeses and mores that spilled from his mouth. Castiel was fascinated by that and he constantly adjusted what he was doing, trying to find the perfect flow with Dean’s needs. When he rubbed his thumb over the hunter’s slit, spreading his precome Dean arched his back, mouth wide open. It was beautiful and Cas wanted more. He leaned down and licked at the tip of Dean’s cock, circling the pink flesh with his tongue. The groan out of Dean’s mouth was breathy and just perfect and his hand found its way into Cas hair. “Oh god, Cas, that’s so good. Fuck, yeah.” 

Satisfied with Dean’s reaction, Castiel let his tongue slide along the underside of Dean’s cock. It was certainly above average size. Castiel had seen enough naked humans to know their anatomy. When he moved up again Dean trembled. “Ok, Cas, you gotta slow down there,” he gasped, hand closing over Cas’ hand around the base of his cock. But Castiel wanted to test the waters a little and he closed his lips around Dean’s tip and swallowed him down. “Fuck, Cas!” Dean’s hand was gone from his and it moved back to the angel’s hair, burying itself there, tugging slightly. Castiel liked it there and he moved his head up and down, speeding up and slowing down depending on Dean’s moans until the hunter pulled harder. When the angel locked eyes with him then, Dean was beautiful, skin glowing, pupils blown, mouth hanging open, lips swollen. 

“Ok, listen, if you don’t want me to shoot in your mouth, you gotta stop that now.” 

“I take it this does not count as me losing my virginity,” Cas asked, releasing Dean’s cock with a soft plop. 

The hunter chuckled. “Technicalities, but yeah it really doesn’t.” He grinned and pulled a little harder on Cas’ hair, yanking his head back. The angel hissed a little, surprised by the action and turned on by Dean’s boldness. 

“Guess you have to get me to subject,” the human whispered with passion, raising his brows at the angel. Castiel was up to the challenge. He wanted to show Dean ‘a good time’ badly, hear him beg and moan. And he was willing to try and show Dean what it means to be brought under subjection if this was what the hunter wanted. There was a dominant side to all angels and Castiel felt his heart accelerate at the prospect of having Dean under him. His eyes went blue again and he spit down in his own palm, the substance glowing blue as well. “What the …?” Castiel lifted Dean’s lower body and gently spread the liquid on his hole, fingers circling his rim and rubbing the substance in while keeping his eyes locked on the hunter, who moved against his fingers. “Fuck, Cas, yeah, go on. Do it. Fuck me.” 

Dean groaned, rolling his hips. Castiel would do just that. He pushed a finger in and waited a few moments for Dean to adjust before he added another digit. With those two he pushed in and out again, spreading them and getting Dean ready. Now he was really thankful for all the porn he had watched or he wouldn’t have had a clue what to do. But all the porn in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the sounds Dean made, the way he moved and fucked himself on Cas’ fingers, begging to be satisfied. Castiel pulled out then, spitting again and rubbing it all over his own cock. Dean got up on his elbows then, looking at the angel. 

“I have a condom in my bag but I guess angels cannot catch or spread STDs,” he said. 

“We cannot,” Cas confirmed but he stopped his motion, prepared to go through all of Dean’s things to get to the condom. 

“Then you better get in me like two days ago,” Dean huffed, panting and stroking his cock slowly. 

Cas did not understand but when Dean rolled his eyes he did move, lining his cock up and pushing in. Dean hissed and Castiel stopped. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Keep going,” the human said. Although he wasn’t completely convinced by that Cas kept pushing, inch by inch until he bottomed out. It felt like his skin was on fire in the best way possible. This was his chance - maybe his last chance ever - to show his might and he did. He touched Dean with two fingers, taking the remaining pain away and moved. Pushing in and drawing back, again and again, Dean writhing underneath him. “Fuck, Cas. Harder! Give it to me.” Dean was indeed a brave man, asking that of an angel of the lord. Castiel picked up a punishing rhythm, adjusting his angle until he found the little gland he was searching for. The moment he hit it, Dean’s back arched and his hands gripped the sheets, fingers buried in the soft fabric. 

“God, Cas, I’m so close …,” Dean panted, skin glistening in the dim light. Right that moment Castiel ached for him. They were so close and it was still not enough. The angel wanted to feel Dean’s soul, to experience this all from Dean’s point of view, feel what he feels, see what he sees. 

“Dean,” he whispered, aiming for his prostate over and over, “I want to be in you, touch your soul. I want you to be a vessel to part of my grace just for now. I promise that you won’t be in danger.” Dean could not say anything but he nodded, panting. “I need you to say it, Dean,” Castiel pushed. 

“Do it, Cas. I’m not ... ah, fuck ... not going to last much longer.” 

The room went dark then, Castiel’s angel shining through his vessel. And he split his grace and let a small part enter Dean. The fusion was perfect and Dean’s soul felt like home and he could feel his vessel pushing into Dean and he could feel Dean’s pleasure at the same time, his climax approaching. Castiel could feel what Dean felt, and he knew what he wanted, what he needed and he could give it to him at the same time. 

“Fuck, Cas, yeah, that’s it, oh fuck, I’m gonna come …” 

When the orgasm rolled over Dean and he twitched and moaned, Cas was taken by the same wave and his grace expanded beyond his vessel, sending a wave of light out with it and taking all his surroundings in. It was like being one with the world, like seeing it for the first time with Dean at its center, the emotion more powerful than he had ever imagined. He emptied his seed into Dean with a litany of enochian words on his tongue. Words of love and devotion. 

And then the moment was over and his grace was in one piece again, back in his vessel, looking down at Dean underneath him. Castiel would not have thought it possible but he loved Dean more now, having touched his soul and shared his body with him for a precious moment. Aching for him even as he was still laying underneath him, Castiel’s softening cock still buried in Dean’s heat. His hand went out and cupped Dean’s face; the man’s breathing was only slowly calming down. 

“Dean,” Castiel said, a little worried, “are you alright?” 

Dean blinked a few times until his gaze focused on the angel. “Fuck, Cas,” he panted, trying to get up on his elbows, “that was literally mind-blowing. I felt your orgasm as well as mine. How did you even do that?” He let himself fall back with a soft smile on his lips. “You know what? Nevermind. Now I can die tomorrow. I’ve been to heaven, now I can go to hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that last sentence was cheesy ... uhm ... sorry for that. I think I might have gone a little overboard there in the end - haha.  
> This was again kind of a stopgap. I had started a different chapter called "Eleven Vikings Raiding" (yes, Vikings crossover or rather Vikings reimagined with our beloved SPN characters) but it sort of blew up in my face and I knew I would not be able to finish it on time.  
> Maybe I find the time to revisit that discarded fic :).


	12. Twelve Orders Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in 5.10 (Abandon All Hope ...)
> 
> Dean tries to get into Jo's pants but things do take a different turn.  
> Threesome!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The last chapter - oh, my.  
> Glad I can end this with one of my favorites.  
> SMUT warning you guys!

Carthage - tomorrow they will go there and Dean will make sure that Sam stays the hell out of Satan’s way ‘cause he just won’t see his brother become the devil’s meat suit. That is not even on the table - n-o-p-e - over his dead body!  
He silently clinks his beer with his brother and gets up. Jo is about to take a bottle out of the fridge and his eyes go to her very fine ass as she bends down a little. It might just be his last chance and so Dean casually walks over, putting on his very best charming expression.

“Hey,” he starts smoothly.

Jo looks at him over the opened refrigerator door. “Hey.”

So far so good. 

“So dangerous mission tomorrow. Guess it’s time to eat, drink, and, you know, make merry.”

Jo frowns. “Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?” Busted.

“What?”

“What?”

“No.”

Jo laughs and it calms him down. Maybe one more try.

“If I was, would, uh, would that work?”

She leans in and Dean expects to get a kiss but she stops and her look is almost apologetic.  
“No, Sweetheart. If this is our last night on earth, then I’m going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect.”

Dean is about to accept being turned down when Ellen laughs at something Castiel does and both Jo and Dean turn their attention towards the table where they sit. Ok, so Jo has turned him down but at least his family has a good time. Dean smiles … and then there is a hand on his biceps and he turns back to Jo. A playful smile graces her face and she winks at him.

“You know what, Dean. Actually … I’m game if he joins us,” she says, tilting her head toward where Ellen sits with Castiel. The woman is apparently still trying to get him drunk. Dean follows her gesture with his eyes and they widen when his brain catches up with what she is saying.

“You want a threesome? With Cas?”

“Yep, that’s my condition,” she answers, grinning, “I guess you better start wooing, huh?” 

She takes a swig of her beer and enjoys the sight of sheer helplessness on Dean’s face.  
Yeah, ok, Dean had one or two threesomes before but it has always been with two girls, not with him and another man. But really what difference would it make? They wouldn’t really have to do anything with each other, right? He just more or less has to share Jo. And even IF they would be … touching ... Cas is hot, very much so but Dean has not thought about him that way before. Not consciously at least. Ok, the thought might have passed his mind once or twice at the sight of Cas’ lips but Dean isn’t able to recall it right now. That is as if it hasn’t happened. He clears his throat and addresses Cas, walking up to the table.

“Hey, you got a minute?”

The angel looks up at him with his big eyes. Ok, now, the moment before proposing a threesome Dean cannot deny how very beautiful Cas’ eyes are. Big, blue, beautiful – a lot of Bs.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel says, standing and nodding at Ellen. Dean leads him in the adjacent room and thinks of a good pickup line. His mind draws a blank and he stares at his feet.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, uh, listen. You remember when we tried to get you laid?”

“Yes, Dean, I remember it very well.” 

Dean looks up at that, having come up with a nice line but he sees Jo spying in on them from the door frame and he loses his train of thought. Castiel follows Dean’s gaze but Jo is gone and he turns back to the hunter.

“What is this about, Dean?”

The hunter scratches his head and goes with the old band-aid trick. Get it over with as soon as possible.

“Yeah, so, Jo and I would like to ask you if you would want to join us?” Well done, Winchester. He takes a deep breath and waits.

“Join you?” 

Dean gives it a few more seconds. Cas might still catch on but the angel just stares at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

“Oh come on, Cas. Would you like to or not?”

“Like to do what?”

“Join me and Jo upstairs.” Now something clearly dawns on Cas.

“Are you going to engage in intercourse?”

“Only if you join us apparently.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why would you want me to join you?”

“Uhm, it’s not exactly my idea …” 

“I do not understand.” 

“Jesus, Cas. Do you want to lose your virginity or not?”

“I assume I do.”

“Thank fuck,” Dean huffs, pulling at Cas’ sleeve, “let’s get this show on the road then.” 

Dean more or less drags Cas upstairs into Bobby’s guest room. There on the bed is Jo, grinning when they enter. 

“He said yes? I didn’t expect him to,” she says, enjoying the weirdness of the situation.  
She sits up and sheds her shirt, revealing a practical bra and flawless skin. Dean grins and takes a step forward, getting rid of his own shirt but Jo raises his finger.

“No, Dean. You gotta start with him,” she says, pointing at Castiel, “I want you to undress him.” 

“Him?”

“Yes, him.” 

Dean looks at Castiel and swallows. “Are you ok with that, Cas?” he asks.

“Of course, as far as I know it is preferable to doff clothing before engaging in any sort of sexual activity.”

“Depends,” Dean says with a lopsided grin but when Castiel steps up to him, he drops it again. Man up, Winchester. Get the angel naked. He peels off Castiel’s coat and the angel drops his own jacket, fingers pulling his tie lose.

“Go for the buttons,” Jo orders and Dean does. He opens the top button, eyes lowered to where his hands are. Cas smells amazing. The guy downs shot after shot and he still smells heavenly. Nice pun. His hands shake a little but with every new button more skin is revealed. Cas’ is soft, his body muscular in all the right places. Dean pushes the shirt off of the angel’s shoulders.

“Well done,” Jo says, sitting a little straighter. Straight, yeah, not really. Cas looks at Dean with his blue eyes and Dean shrugs.

“Now kiss.”

“What?”

The girl swings her legs over the bed frame and giggles. “Oh, Dean, come on. You first. Then I’ll join in.” 

Dean turns back to Cas. This is only the means to get in Jo’s pants he tells himself. Ok, Cas has nice lips. Soft, plush, pink. Yeah, he can do that.  
“You ok with that, Cas?”

“Of course, Dean,” he replies as if it is nothing at all to him. That rubs Dean the wrong way and he crowds Cas against the wall, ready to see if he cannot get the angel to lose his cool a little. He cups Cas’ face, finger tracing the outlines of his mouth. Yes, those lips are soft. He leans in and kisses the angel. It’s a gentle kiss at first, all lips and softness and Cas is pliant. He mimics Dean’s movements, sucking at his lips but when Dean deepens the kiss, he tenses a little. Dean opens his mouth and when Cas copies him he pushes his tongue in, searching for Cas’ and then the angel moans. The sound goes straight to Dean’s cock. 

Yeah, ok, welcome to gay-land. Dean pulls back and Cas follows him. So he is enjoying himself at least. The hunter turns to Jo who is standing way closer now and she leans in and pulls him to her by his neck, pressing their lips together. It is amazing and Dean’s hands go to her ass but she withdraws and grins again. Oh god. She beckons Cas to come closer and kisses him as well and Dean has to admit – it’s damn hot. Cas is a little inexperienced but he is a fast learner. When Jo pushes Dean and the angel back together, Cas almost melts into the kiss. And Dean is sporting a raging hard-on by now. Wow, yeah threesomes. 

Jo goes to stand behind Cas and she touches his skin, lets her fingers trail over his body and his breathing speeds up. Dean likes it. The angel jerks suddenly and Jo chuckles, her hands on Cas’ chest.

“Dean, I want you to lick his nipples. I think he would like that.” 

How has he gotten himself into this? Dean raises his brow at her but she does not budge. He rolls his eyes and looks back at Cas. His lips are red and swollen and his eyes are hooded. It is indeed a gorgeous sight. Dean shrugs and dips down to suck at Cas’ nipples. They are nice and firm and it is not so different from pleasuring a girl. Only Cas is way more receptible than Dean would have thought. He arches his back into Dean’s ministrations, and his hands shake until Jo whispers something in his ear and Cas buries his fingers in Dean’s hair. God, that shouldn’t feel this good but it does and Dean continues with the other nipple, hands going to Cas’ hips to hold him still. And maybe to touch his perfect skin. Jo has taken a step back and looks at them with her lip between her teeth, obviously turned on by the show Dean puts on for her.

“His trousers, Dean. Get rid of them,” she says when she sees him looking. By now Dean is willing to go the extra mile here and he lowers his hands, fingers working at Cas’ belt. He looks at the angel and meets Cas’ eyes. So far Castiel has been a willing but passive participant but something changes and he drops his head on Dean’s shoulder, turning it to mouth at the hunter’s neck and Dean can feel the want building. He is here because of Jo and now he wants Cas to touch him, wants the angel on him. The fuck?

Ok, that is unexpected but Dean is too turned on to think on it now. He makes short work of Cas’ belt and his trousers fall down, leaving the angel in a pair of plain white boxers. Always so practical. 

“Those too, Dean,” Jo says from the bed. When has she moved back there? Anyway, Dean wants to move this to the bed as well. Just Cas’ boxers. He lets his finger trace the hem of the last piece of clothing on Castiel and the angel takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. Dean pushes the boxers down and looks. Of course he looks. He has to know if Castiel can keep up with his own enormous ... oh, wow. Ok. Dean has never had a thing for cocks except his own maybe but Cas’ is nice. It looks heavy and thick and Dean is surprised that he wants to touch it. Time to move this closer to Jo.

“Touch it!”

“Uh, ...,” Dean stutters in response. “Cas, you still ok with that?” he asks, in need of a little confirmation.

“I think it would be pleasant if you were to touch me there,” the angel says, voice even deeper and raspier. Fuck. 

Dean carefully moves his hand over Cas’ skin, testing the waters with three fingers first. He gives him a little squeeze and Castiel lets his head fall back. Ok, not a bad sign. Emboldened Dean wraps his hand around and strokes Cas slowly. Jo has left the bed again and stands behind Dean now, pinching his nipples. Thank the lord that Cas has said yes to him ... them. 

Cas moans when Dean speeds up a little and Dean moans because Jo has her right hand in his jeans now as well. It is paradise. Jo even goes so far as to get rid of Dean’s jeans and briefs so that he only has to step out of them and then they are gone. But her hand is back a moment later and Dean rolls his hip. “Fuck, yeah,” he pants. But the friction is too much and he is about to ask for lube when Jo removes her hand. She stands on her tiptoes and whispers into Dean’s ear. “Suck his dick, Dean!” 

It is way too late to draw a line now and if he is honest with himself, he is curious and Cas cock feels good in his hand and it looks tempting. He just nods and drops to his knees. It is nice to give up responsibility for once and do what you’re told. Castiel’s eyes are still closed and Dean is sure that the angel is not aware that Dean is about to blow him. The thought amuses him and he continues to stroke Cas, only now he is right in Dean’s face and Cas is huge. Nice. Dean wets his lips and gives Cas’ cock a lick. The angel jerks awake and he stares down at Dean, gaping, his pupils blown. A smile spreads on Dean’s face and he mouths along the shaft, eyes still locked with Cas. The angel is beautiful like this.

“Everything alright there, Castiel?” Jo asks and Cas startles as if he has forgotten all about her.

“It is very pleasurable,” he offers breathlessly after a few seconds.

“Good,” she nods. And somehow Dean wants Cas attention back on him so he swallows him down as best as he can, bobbing his head like he himself likes it. Cas groans and Dean’s name slips from his lips … repeatedly. Yes, definitely more like it. Dean enjoys himself as well, moaning along the shaft in his mouth, fingers digging into the soft skin of Cas’ hips, keeping him still. Who would have thought how nice it can be to suck dick?

Jo comes up, turns Cas’ face towards her and kisses the angel, open-mouthed and hard. Dean lets Cas’ cock drop from his lips and he stands up, pulling the angel forward and away from Jo, claiming his lips himself. After all he has sucked his cock like a champ.

“Let him reciprocate, Dean,” Jo says, apparently cool with Dean’s move. The hunter releases Castiel and looks him in the eyes.

“Would you?”

“Of course, Dean. I’ll try to recreate your movements,” he says, ready to go down on his knees, not to pray but to blow Dean, but the hunter holds him up.

“Do what feels right to you, Cas. You don’t have to copy anyone. You’ll see.” 

The angel nods and gets down on Dean. He kisses his tip first, hand wrapped around the base. Then he licks at his slit, his breath hot on Dean’s skin. The sight is mesmerizing and Dean tries to keep his eyes open as much as he wants to let his head fall back and drown in the feeling. 

Cas increases the suction and Dean’s knees wobble. The hunter looks down and traces the angel’s wet lower lip with his finger. He trembles. “Fuck, Cas. Yes,” he pants. Gazing up at Dean, Cas tries a few things, taking in the hunter’s reaction until Jo steps up and gives him tips.

“He likes that, you can see that from the way his knees are wagging.” Cas nods and Dean feels the pressure building and moans. Jo, the devil. And beside her Castiel, the angel. Cas. Cas is smart and he is hot and he has the most perfect lips and he gives amazing head. Yeah, definitely a heavenly being.

“We could move this to the bed, guys,” Jo offers when Dean is close to shooting his load in Cas’ mouth.

“Yeah,” he moans and pulls Cas up, smiling at the angel.

“Pretty awesome, Cas. Especially for your first time.” He expects more shyness but Cas smiles back and surges forward to kiss Dean again – passionately, open-mouthed, greedily.

“Guys?”

Oh, yeah, Jo. Uhm, Jo is there. Dean pulls away and takes Cas’ hand, leading him to the big king size bed.

“Cas?” she asks, batting her lashes. That’s not a good sign.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to finger Dean?”

“I don’t know. I assume it is pleasurable?”

She chuckles. “It is and Dean you’ll take it!”

Fuck, how does she do that? Dean wants to obey, wants to please and she exploits his weakness like a pro. He nods and lies down on his belly.

“How do I ...?” Cas begins. 

“I’ll help you through,” Jo offers and Dean just hopes it’s going to be good. It is his first time being fingered by a man. He likes it well enough with women, knows how his prostate enjoys a little attention. Jo whispers in Cas’ ear and Dean hears a bottle opened. Lube, ok, that’s a good start at least. Then there is Cas’ finger at his entrance, gently moving over it, circling his rim, rubbing lube all over. It is warm and Dean is thankful for that. The preparation itself feels weird at first but he’ll see it through. After quite a lot of prep, that has Dean more and more squirming, Cas pushes his finger in gently. It should be painful but Dean feels nothing of the sort and that is when he knows that Castiel is taking the pain away with his other hand. Wow, a nice feature. He feels the stretch without the pain and it is good until Cas uses a second finger and good is suddenly very good and then amazing.

“Fuck,” he gasps. Cas finds his prostate as if he has a GPS, and he presses against it, making Dean see stars. His eyes fly open when Cas keeps rubbing him there, just on the edge of overstimulating. “God, Cas, f-fuck!” Dean buries his face in the sheets when he sees Jo touching herself next to them, winking at him, finger rubbing her clit. She looks blissful and Dean likes it.

“Want to do the honours?” she asks breathlessly and Dean nods, not able to form a complete sentence. She inches closer, shoves her lower body under his face and then her crotch is in his face. And Dean goes down on her, moaning loudly when Cas rubs his prostate again. 

Oh, what if Sam hears? He doesn’t care - cannot care. Cas is up to three fingers now and Dean is desperately trying to fuck himself on them. He adds a finger of his own to the equation and Jo comes with a shaky breath, shuddering through her orgasm and smiles at the hunter.

“Very nice. He’s gonna fuck you now, Dean!” she informs him. It is as close to an order as possible and he’s gonna submit.

“Yes,” he pants, “yeah, I’d like that.” She nods and yanks his head up by his hair. “Good, I’d like to see you take his cock, Dean. It’s huge.” 

If someone had told him how this evening would be going down, Dean would have laughed. Now he wants nothing more than Cas’ cock in his ass. Castiel fucking him into the sheets. He might regret it later but he might also die tomorrow. It’s time to go with the flow here. Jo winks at Cas and the angel withdraws his fingers.

“Do I ...?”

“Just use your angel mojo,” Jo says, “he’s gonna like it soon enough.”

And on cue Cas lines his cock up and pushes in. There is no pain whatsoever, only the feeling of being stretched, filled, used. And Dean likes it, needs it. Sex helps him cope, makes him forget and Cas is an amazing lay. The angel waits until he moves but when he does ... boy does he move. Dean cannot focus on anything other than his own pleasure now. The way Cas aims for his prostate is all kinds of mind-blowing. Dean usually touches himself when a girl fingers him but he completely forgets about that, taken by all the raw passion. After all his dick is nicely trapped between his body and the bed and the friction is a nice backdrop to the real action going on. Above him the angel moans and pants and says his name over and over. Dean knows he is getting close, his orgasm in front of him but still out of reach.

“It’s good, right?” Jo whispers in his ear. “You like it. You want to be taken like that. You are the type,” she pauses and lowers her volume even further, “and you like him. He’s hot and you feel safe with him. You need that.”

Dean cannot really follow her words but he nods. It sounds right to him.

“You gonna come so hard, Dean. You’re gonna come untouched,” she continues and Dean wants to come, he wants it so bad.

“You’re so close, Dean. You’re tensing up. I can see it. It feels so good.”

“Yes,” he pants, “so close.”

“You’re just waiting to come, you want to be allowed to. You want to be told.”

“Please ...,” he begs. The feeling is overwhelming. It’s as if Cas knows exactly what to do, when to speed up, when to slow down and Dean loves it, takes it.  
“Oh God, like that, Cas!”  
He is ready, all muscles keyed up and he can feel Cas’ movements getting erratic too.

“Now, Dean, come!” Jo says. 

It’s an order and he obeys. “Fuck, Cas!” He moans when his orgasm hits and he feels his ass tightening around Cas’ cock, feels the come shoot out, Cas’ cock still pressing against his prostate, feels his body trembling from the overstimulation and he hears the angel’s name drop from his lips again and again before he blacks out.

When he opens his eyes, Jo lies next to him, smiling at him.

“That was fun, Dean,” she says with a wicked grin and he chuckles.

“That’s one word for it,” Dean huffs. Something is wrong though. “Where is Cas?” he asks, looking up, “Oh god, did he even come?”

Jo grins. “Sure thing, Dean. Your tight little ass and you shouting his name had him spilling in no time.”

“Then where is he?”  
Ok, weird. Dean is absolutely not the cuddling type but he wants Cas with him. Talk to him. See what he thinks about … all of it.

“Took his clothes and got out. I would think he is down with the others,” Jo says with a little shrug.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Cas must be mad at him. He must be angry and Dean is not sure why. He scrambles to get his things and heads for the door still completely naked when it opens and Cas stands there, looking at Dean with a soft smile.

“Oh ... hey,” Dean manages. Smooth, Winchester. His eyes fall on the glass of water Cas is holding out to him.

“You are thirsty,” Castiel says matter of factly.

“I am.”

“I know.”

“Cas, I ...”

The angel puts his finger on Dean’s lips and shakes his head. “Don’t be uncomfortable, Dean. I am grateful you let me be part of that. This is something I will keep with me for as long as my existence lasts.” 

Dean nods and instinctively leans forward. What the actual fuck is he doing? Is he really trying to get a kiss out of Cas? When has his focus switched from Jo to Cas so completely? Well, screw it. He goes for it. If Cas wants to he will ... he is kissing him, his hands snake around Dean’s now shivering body, warming him. Dean melts into it. 

Jo pushes past them with a soft giggle: “Go find a room, will ya!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really was a strange ride for me - putting my stuff out there.  
> I am never truly happy with anything I write and tend to rewrite my own stuff 100 times.  
> That makes me extra proud that this is finally finished and I want to thank you all for reading, leaving kudos, commenting and staying with me through this. It really means a lot to me :).


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